


Fragments

by Artemis_Day



Category: Ouran High School Host Club
Genre: Adventure, Amnesia, Drama, F/M, Friendship, Future Fic, Gen, Post Apocalypse, Psychological Trauma, Reunions, Romance, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2017-11-20 01:24:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 80,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/579764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Day/pseuds/Artemis_Day
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten years after the end of the world, those who remain struggle to live on. Haruhi Fujioka lives each day wondering what happened to the friends she lost, never expecting to see them again. Until she's forced on the adventure of a lifetime to find them again. Who will be the same, and who is irrevocably changed?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_Haruhi almost doesn’t believe Tamaki when he says he didn’t know it would rain today._

_Almost, because he says it in that loud, dramatic way of his and she’s still getting used to the knowledge that this is real and not just an act to try and manipulate her emotions. He cries in the corner for a good ten minutes, while the others decide they don’t care, and all it really means is they have the carnival to themselves today. Besides, it’s only drizzling._

_So they have their chauffeurs break out the raincoats (and of course they carry several changes of clothes just in case), tossing extras at Tamaki and Haruhi before heading off in different directions. Haruhi last sees Hikaru and Kaoru approaching the Ferris Wheel and Hunny-senpai dragging Mori-senpai over to some games, pointing at the wall of stuffed animals offered up as prizes. Kyoya sits at a table near the refreshment booth that has an umbrella over it. He‘s not very interested in carnivals._

_This leaves her alone with Tamaki, as he continues to sniffle like the child she often feels he’s never stopped being._

_“Come on, Senpai,” she says a dozen times before he finally listens. “I told you, it’s okay. I’m not angry. Let’s just go and have a good time, alright?”_

_Something about that statement, innocuous it may be, sends him shooting for the opposite extreme. He springs to his feet, grabs her and holds her close. Haruhi kicks her feet out, but can’t work herself free, even as Tamaki points dramatically at the carnival grounds._

_“You’re absolutely right, Haruhi! We’re here for a day of fun and nothing will get in our way!”_

_And he’s off. Dragging Haruhi along, his first stop is the concession stand, much to Haruhi’s lack of surprise. She’s even less amazed when her over-excited Senpai orders two of everything on the menu. She has to change the order when Tamaki’s not looking, requesting only a milkshake for herself and taking a few things off his order as well so he won’t have to spend the night with his head in the toilet._

_Tamaki doesn’t notice when the food is ready. He eats what he has without a single complaint, gushing about how wonderful it is and proclaiming the workers to be the absolute best chefs in the world. Haruhi can only roll her eyes and sip on her shake, a smile playing at her lips._

_The others wander over soon after, covered in copious amounts of classic carnival gear. Hunny-senpai, walking beside Mori-senpai instead of resting on his back for once, proudly sports a red balloon hat, the head of which looks sort of like a giraffe. There’s a cone of half eaten cotton candy in one hand and disposable ramen bowl in the other. Mori-senpai’s arms are over loaded with his and Hunny’s hard earned prizes. A giant stuffed tiger at the very top obstructs his face from view, yet he moves with all the grace and ease of the martial arts master he is._

_Hikaru and Kaoru have gotten their faces painted, a cat and a dog respectively. They take great pleasure in sneaking up on Tamaki and loudly meowing/barking in his ear. He jumps ten feet in the air with a shriek, half eaten riceballs flying everywhere as the twins break down in laughter. Kyoya is the only one with no food or souvenirs, but Haruhi expected no less. At the very least, he doesn’t seem as bored as when they first arrived, and when he goes to break up the impending fight, he does so with minimal annoyance._

_“Come on guys, don’t fight,” Hunny-senpai says brightly, before inserting half the remaining cotton candy into his mouth. “Let’s just have fun!”_

_“This_ is _fun,” the twins respond over Tamaki’s enraged screams._

_“THOSE TWINS HAVE GONE FAR ENOUGH!”_

_Kyoya is not moved._

_“Really? I can think of a few worse things than spilled commoner food. You’re overreacting, Tamaki.”_

_“I am not!” Tamaki says indignantly. “How can you say that when I am only trying to appreciate the lives of Haruhi’s people.”_

_“My_ people? _” Haruhi wonders aloud._

_Kyoya sighs. “I suppose we can stay an extra hour for dinner.”_

_It has the desired effect. In an instant, Tamaki’s face has returned to it’s proper color and his is cheering and crushing Kyoya in a hug that leaves him gasping. Tamaki doesn’t notice and spins Kyoya around in his exuberance before letting go. The twins stand huddled together, watching the scene._

_“How does he get so excited over the simplest stuff,” Hikaru says._

_“That’s the Boss for you,” Kaoru answers._

_Haruhi tunes them out as they continue to whisper. She takes a moment to watch her friends, Tamaki has just started an argument with Hunny-senpai over what ride they should try next. Tamaki starts off firm in his reasoning for choosing the roller coaster, but Hunny-senpai’s stance is quickly becoming threatening. Haruhi doesn’t believe he will really attack Tamaki over the merry-go-round, but Tamaki sure does. He is already starting to sweat under Hunny-senpai‘s hooded gaze. Haruhi then spots something in the distance._

_“How about we get a picture?”_

_Everyone goes quiet, and presumably looks where she is pointing. Then Hikaru speaks up._

_“Sure, sounds okay to me.”_

_“If it doesn’t take too long,” Kyoya says._

_“Come on, Takashi!” Hunny-senpai is already pulling his cousin with him to the booth. “Let’s go, everyone, we’re getting our pictures taken!”_

_The rest of the group catches up quickly. Surprisingly, it’s Tamaki and Haruhi taking up the rear. With even Kyoya more than five feet ahead of them, the two walk side by side, and Haruhi can’t help but notice the look on her upperclassmen’s face. His smile is contagious, she can’t stop from returning it._

_“I knew today would be a wonderful day,” Tamaki says, inhaling the fresh air through his nose. “What about you, Haruhi?”_

_There is a pause as Haruhi contemplates her answer. She almost stops walking, but manages to keep up with him._

_“I didn’t give it much thought,” she admits softly before looking up at him. “But I am glad I came.”_

_Tamaki’s face, if possible, lights up even more. Haruhi half-expects him to pull her into yet another hug, but if he does have the urge, he isn't acting on it. They arrive just as Kyoya is paying the photographer for a set of group photos. The twins stand on one side next to a bench, Hunny-senpai and Mori-senpai are on the other. Kyoya takes the middle, and Tamaki and Haruhi find a place in front of them. Mori-senpai pulls Hunny-senpai into his arms so he can be seen, and the twins each have one hand on Haruhi’s back in a decidedly friendly matter. This doesn’t stop Tamaki from glaring at them, nor Haruhi from rolling her eyes. They don’t move a muscle when the photographer calls for them to look up at him. They must look rather close knit, or else just really weird. Haruhi considers this as the man prepares his camera, but it’s right before the picture is taken, in that split second before the light will flash and blind her._

_It’s right then that Tamaki shifts his weight to his left leg, and his hand comes to brush hers. Haruhi freezes up, her heart making a single, heavy thump that she can’t explain. She casts a glance at Tamaki, but he doesn’t seem to notice. She looks back at the lens, and feels the warm hands on her shoulder, hears the sound of Hunny’s laughter and Mori’s breathing, sees Kyoya out the corner of her eye looking strangely at peace with himself, feels a tingling in her fingers where Tamaki had touched them that is actually kind of nice._

_There is no other place Haruhi rather be than right here._

_She smiles._

**CLICK**

**  
It’s quiet.

Everything is quiet tonight.

Quiet and calm exactly the way she likes it.

With her hand running absently down cold, sleek metal, and her back pressed against the splintering wall, she’s about as comfortable as she possibly can be and alert enough to see that nothing and no one is approaching. This makes her happier than necessary, and that’s saying something. Her old shotgun is nice to hold on to, but not so fun to use. She remembers the first day she got it. It had been scary, but also kind of invigorating. She finally had a chance to fight back, to feel stronger.  She could even learn to hunt.  None of those things had been kept from her, even when her father tried to object. She went about her business because she was an adult now and she knew that she wouldn’t always have the people in their building to protect her.

The world they were living in now… it wasn’t the same as the one she grew up in.

Not by a longshot.

And when things change so drastically, so quickly, even Haruhi Fujioka knows that it’s time to get off your ass and start adjusting.

So that's what she did.

“Haruhi?”

She doesn’t jump at the voice, she already knows it well. She’d been expecting him for ten minutes now, and can’t help feeling a bit annoyed in spite of the worn out look to him.

“Evening, Fujiwa-san,” she says, getting to her feet.

He smiles sadly. “I think you mean good morning.”

“Oh… yeah, I guess so.”

Fujiwa nods, and the awkward pause that comes after goes straight for Haruhi’s nerves and makes her want to melt away into the wall before she says something she shouldn’t.

“How’s Mariko?” She asks politely. “Is she feeling better?”

He sighs, and Haruhi hopes he isn’t going to ask her to leave or just refuse to answer. Haruhi cares for Mariko‘s health as much as anyone else in the Building, even though they have never spent much time getting to know each other. She's always been sickly, even before all of this. How she survived The End is anyone’s guess. She isn’t gone yet, so she must be made of tougher stuff than people give credit for.

As it was, she appeared to have taken a turn for the worse last week. The Building was up in arms doing everything they could for her, which wasn’t really much. With no doctors around aside from a former Registered Nurse, and no more Doctor’s offices to go to, Mariko-san had been sicker and in more pain than ever before. It makes Haruhi feeling like crying, both for Mariko and her husband.

“She said she felt better today, but…”

His hands and shoulders start to shake, and he doesn’t go on until he’s regained control of himself.

“Mariko… she tends to lie about her pain because she thinks she’s bothering people. I don’t know why she would- but-”

A soft sob escapes him. It’s the only one Haruhi hears, but she imagines he’s crying enough on the inside. She stepped forward and place a soft hand on Fujiwa’s back.

“Listen,” she says. “This is a really difficult time for you and you must be exhausted from worrying so much and taking care of Mariko. If you don’t think you can perform lookout duties tonight, I don‘t mind staying a while longer.”

“Oh no,” he says, snapping to attention. “No, I couldn’t do that to you, Haruhi. You’ve been out here for hours, I’m surprised you’re not dead on your feet.”

 _‘I am,’_ she thinks, and wisely keeps to herself.

“If you’re really sure,” she says. “Because if you’re not-”

“Go Haruhi.” He leaves no room for argument. He even guides her in the direction of the door. “Go and sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

As she’s stepping over the threshold, Haruhi turns back around and smiles.

“It _is_ morning,” she says.

Fujiwa doesn’t laugh, but Haruhi didn’t expect him to. He doesn’t do anything but stare out the window, but Haruhi hopes her little attempt at raising his spirits at least reminded him that he wasn’t alone in this. No matter what happened to Mariko, he would always have a family here.

She stops in front of her door, just short of pushing it open. It was like someone had just come up from behind her and smacked her in the head with a mallet.

She sees them again.

Their faces in her mind, faces she hasn’t seen since that horrible day.

That day when the entire world began to collapse.

In the aftermath of The End, no one really knew what had happened.

It had been quick and it had been painful, and most likely numerous elements went into it, coming together at the wrong moment and plunging the world into chaos. As the years went by, they all mostly stopped thinking about it. It no longer mattered _how_ , the important thing was to stay alive today and tomorrow.

For Haruhi, there were other important things, or people, really. Six of them.

It had been ten years since Haruhi Fujioka last saw the members of the Host Club. She had lost them that day and never found them again. One by one they all disappeared before her eyes, lost in a crowd of terrified rioters who had no care for anything but their own safety. The last to go was Tamaki, his violet eyes filled with an unspeakable fear. His mouth formed an ‘O’ as he was pulled away from her, locked in a scream she couldn’t hear as he was dragged off.

Thinking about it, even a decade later, created terrible pains in Haruhi‘s chest.

Her door slides open, and Haruhi steps on three creaky floorboards in a row on the way to her bed. The walls in her cramped room are bare and murky brown, as is the ceiling. A small oil lamp sits on the coffee table. She rarely uses it unless it’s an emergency. The moon and the stars provide just enough light for her to find her bed, and that’s all she needs.

Dropping her shotgun by the door, she pulls off her tattered, dark brown jacket and tosses it haphazardly to the floor. She can just hang it up in the morning or something. She kicks off her boots as well, leaving her clothed in form fitting black pants and an equally dark tank top. She runs a hand through boy cut brown hair. She keeps it short so it doesn’t get in her way when she’s working or at target practice.  Though she won’t admit it out loud, Haruhi also keeps it as a reminder.

When she looks in the mirror, she sees a face aged ten years. Her features are matured, her eyes darker with bags underneath. She has never been a very large or curvy girl, but she appears to have gotten skinnier, her muscles defined from tireless work

There is no mirror in Haruhi’s room, and so right now, she can’t see any of this. With a heavy sigh, she collapses on the bed. The mattress is lumpy in places, but ultimately comfortable; it’s her pillows that pose the problem. After using them for so long, they have gone flat and saggy. Haruhi doesn’t bother trying to fluff them anymore. She makes do as best as she can, the way she’s always done ever since she was a child.

As she stares at the opposite wall, her chest slowly rising and falling and creating a feeling of calm within her, Haruhi’s mind begins to wander. She does this every night, and she always finds herself back in the same place. With Hikaru and Kaoru and Hunny-senpai and Mori-senpai and Kyoya-Senpai and Tamaki-senpai. She sees herself standing for that group photo at the carnival with their goofy faces all around her. She can feel the smile on her face, and the contentment she had carried in the pit of her stomach. If only she’d known back then what was going to happen in just a few short months.

That soon, she would be separated from all of them, with no idea where they were or even if they were alive. That this question would have her staying up until all hours of the night coming up with theories that varied in plausibility. That the lack of answers would eventually lead to silent tears running down her cheeks until she was finally lulled to sleep by sheer exhaustion.

Haruhi closes her eyes tight, though she doesn’t feel anything wet. She sees them again, their fear filled faces that would be her last impression of them. Two seconds later, they would all disappear into the abyss.

First Kaoru, then Hikaru, then Hunny and Mori, then Kyoya, and when it was down to just her and Tamaki…

_‘Hold on to me, hold on tight!’_

_“I can’t… I just-’_

_‘Haruhi!’_

_‘Senpai! Where are you? SENPAI?’_

Her eyes snap open.

A gasp is half formed in her throat.

She feels cold moisture running down her cheeks.

She puts her head in her hands.

It’s going to be one of _those_ nights.


	2. Widow

Haruhi pushes the rake out and pulls it back in.

She pushes it out and pulls it back in.

Out. In.

Out. In.

She pauses after the fifth time, a clump of soggy leaves is stuck between the prongs. She turns it from one and to the other, and the sight makes her nose crinkle. She turns to the pile of leaves and runs her hands over each prong to remove the leaves and let them fall. The pile is growing at a fast rate. She’s going to have to start a new one soon. 

The kids are playing in the distance, probably only ten feet away or so. If she’s lucky, they will be too wrapped up in their game to notice the forming leaf piles. Not even an apocalypse can take away the fun of leaf piles, it seems. She just hopes they don’t get too carried away and leave another mess for her to clean up. Haruhi stops to stretch her tired muscles, thankful that her daily work ends here. With any luck, she’ll be upstairs in her room, napping until nightfall when it’s her turn to keep watch. Earlier in the day, Fujiwa had guided Mariko through the field on a short walk. She looked better than last night, with the color slowly returning to her face. She was still bony thin, though. Haruhi remembers ten years ago when they first met, she’d been a happy, chunky woman who loved to cook and read to the children. She’d never had any of her own.

Ten kids live in their battered old building. Once upon a time, it had been Haruhi’s apartment complex. All the building that used to surround it are either burned to the ground or depleted of resources. They’re dangerous too, with broken glass and splintered wood littering the floors. A few man tried to explore them two years ago, and came back covered in cuts and scratches, some of which came close to becoming infected. After that, they made everyone, especially the children, swear never to enter those buildings. Never even look at them funny. Kids may be inquisitive and lacking in danger sense, but they didn’t have any problems with this new rules. Nothing beyond young Hiro Fukuda gazing longingly at them over the fence. He was adventurous as a boy, and far too precocious for his own good. He was nearing sixteen and hadn’t made a snide comment to anyone in ages.

The youngest kids had been born after The End. They’re the only ones who find leaf piles so interesting, and the only reason Renge is outside at all. At this time of day, she’s usually helping get dinner started. Indeed, she has a faded pink apron on, and her long hair is tied back in a loose ponytail. She looks positively matronly, it’s almost funny.

“Enough, you guys,” she shouts, hands on her hips. Haruhi winces. Ten years and that shrill voice hasn’t changed a bit. “You’re ruining all of Haruhi’s hard work. Yuuma, come out this instant!”

A little blonde head pokes out from the middle of the pile. A cherub face with a ruddy complexion, a tiny nose, and big, brown eyes that mirror Renge’s own stares back at her, smiling innocently.

“Aw, Mom, we were just having some fun.”

Another boy jumps out of the pile. He’s smaller and younger than Yuuma, barely three years old yet. He’s just like the three year olds Haruhi remembers from the old days: happy and carefree. Maybe that’s why she has a soft spot for him. He’s waist deep in leaves with his arms crossed over his chest. A few have gotten tangled up in his messy black hair. His mother isn’t going to like that.

“We’re playing desert heroes! Yuuma’s the bad guy, and Mio is the damsel in distress,” he punches a fist in the air triumphantly. “And I’m the great hero, Kaito, here to rescue her!”

He cheers and leaps backwards, going back under with a giggling Yuuma and Mio. Renge is less than amused. She pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs in frustration.

“Not this Kaito business again.”

Haruhi shakes her head and goes back to the pile in progress. She only has to check the corners now and she’ll be done. With the rake over her shoulder, she walks with her back to the kids and Renge. Renge continues to shout at them, and they continue to ignore her. Yuuma’s whooping laughter rings out, deeper than a boy of his age should be capable of. It reminds Haruhi of his father, and she pauses. 

Today was the day they were supposed to go, wasn’t it?

She turns to ask Renge, but both she and the happy children are cut off by three small cans, stacked in a pyramid on a thicker portion of their wooden fence, flying into the air seemingly on their own. If Haruhi hadn’t caught the tiny gray object flying at them at warp speed, she might think they really had.

She is unsurprised by the figure of a teenage girl standing on the flat roof, leaning against the molded door that leads downstairs. She’s dressed in old clothes that have been cleaned one too many times, because she refuses to wear anything else. Her blonde hair is cut in a bob style, and has been ever since she was seven, when she decided long hair was for sissies and chopped it all off on her own. Renge had screamed her head off that time. Her blue eyes are narrowed, like a hawk stalking it’s prey. In her leather gloved right head is a slingshot. Haruhi often wonders what she was thinking, giving that thing to her.

“Listen to Aunt Renge, you little punks,” she shouts at the kids in the leaf pile. She pulls another rock out of her jacket pocket and tosses it into the air to catch. “Or else…”

It works like a charm. Three terrified kids scramble out of the leaves and run for the back door. They shout apologies at Renge and Haruhi on their way, but Haruhi doesn’t answer. Renge is too busy glaring at her unwanted helper.

“Kirimi, get down from there! What have I told you about that slingshot? It’s only to be used for protection and nothing else.”

Kirimi ‘hmphs’ and crosses her arms, a bad mockery of Renge’s pose. “I was just trying to help.”

“You can help by coming downstairs and setting the table like I asked you too.”

“I already did it!”

“Really? So if I go inside right now and look, I’ll find a set table?”

Kirimi doesn’t answer. She fidgets a little, glancing from side to side, before pulling away from the wall and all but running to the staircase. When she’s out of sight, Renge drops her arms and lets out a breath. She looks exhausted, her hair is even close to falling out of it’s bounds. Haruhi can’t help but pity her.

“That girl drives me crazy sometimes,” Renge says, mostly to herself, but loud enough that Haruhi can hear. “I do love her, but…”

Haruhi puts a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder, the least she can do her. Renge looks up, and from this close, Haruhi has no trouble seeing the bags under her eyes. She wonders when Renge last had a good night sleep. Probably around the same time Haruhi did.

“Kirimi loves you too,” Haruhi says. “She’s just going through a rebellious phase. At least she’s doing something vaguely productive with it.”

She motions at the messy leaf pile the kids left behind. It’s minimal damager compared to what could have been. Renge smiles slightly, and it looks just as tired as her eyes do.

“I guess that’s something,” she says, sighing again. “I never thought about having kids. Now I’m raising two, and sometimes I think I’m completely messing it up.”

Haruhi isn’t sure she should really be saying what she’s about to. 

“You’re doing great. Umehito would be proud of you.”

Renge stiffens, and for a moment, Haruhi thought her fears had been realized, and she’d just crossed a boundary she shouldn’t have. Maybe Renge really didn’t want to go today.

Then she looked up, her sandy hair swaying in the gentle breeze that also seemed to dry her eyes of the tears threatening to fall. Her smile is still there.

“He always wanted children, for years… I wish I’d said yes a little sooner…” she trails off, and Haruhi thinks she’s not being addressed with that last bit. “Haruhi, is it okay if we go now? I mean, once Kirimi is done setting the table. W-we should be able to get back in time to eat, we’d just be a little late. Is that okay?”

It’s clear Renge is forcing herself, and Haruhi really wants to say no or try to convince her that another day would be better. The truth is, no day is ever better for this. They go to Nekozawa’s gravesite once a month, and it never ends well. Renge either cries or goes straight into her room afterwards and never comes out. Haruhi doesn’t think it’s good for Yuuma to see. He’s only five years old and never knew his father, but he’s getting to that age. Soon, he’s going to start asking why visiting the old tree with his father’s picture taped to it makes his mother cry so much at night. Haruhi doesn’t know what Renge will tell him.

She’s going to have to bring it up to Renge someday, but she doesn’t think that day is today. Maybe tomorrow, when it’s all over and her friend is a little more composed.

“Sounds good to me,” she answers, putting on a smile the way she learned back in the days of the Host Club.

The days before her life effectively ended.

**  
It’s always the same group of four that goes to the gravesite every month. Everyone at the building attended Nekozawa’s burial, but few have the time and energy to visit him regularly. Sometimes, other people will stop by to pay their respects, but Haruhi, Renge, Yuuma, and Kirimi are the only ones who go on the clock. It’s always this day of the month and close to this time. They always bring a single flower for him, because they can’t spare many more. White carnations had been Nekozawa’s favorite. It was a pity they didn’t have any. His spirit would have to settle for whatever they could buy at the market. This month, it was a lily, and it was one of the nicer ones that didn’t have any petals missing.

They walk two at a time, with Haruhi and Renge in front and Yuuma and Kirimi in the back. The tree is in view against the setting sun. The sky is burnt orange, and will be pitch black in the next hour. They’ll have to make this visit quick. Being outside safe grounds after dark, even in as isolated a place as this, is just asking for trouble.

They stop in front of the tree. There is no name on it to identity Umehito Nekozawa, there is only an old photo of him taken in his high school days. It doesn’t even look like the man he died as. He’s out of his robe, for once. After The End, that was the one article of dark clothing he’d been able to salvage, and he protected it with his life. Renge and Kirimi were the only people he valued above it, and they were the ones he’d taken three bullets to defend. They buried him because cremation was no longer an option. Staring a fire that big and putting that much smoke in the air was asking for trouble. Those bandits had been bad enough. Renge found out she was pregnant a month later. 

Yuuma is growing into a fine young boy, one who looks more and more like his father every day. Renge never brings it up, but Haruhi can see her old senpai in him plain as day. Nekozawa’s old cloak is hung up in Renge’s closet, awaiting the day Yuuma is big enough to wear it. 

They stand in a semi-circle, with Renge in the center. No words are spoken today, but then they rarely are. Renge steps forward, flower clenched in her hands. She kneels into the dirt, her dress will no doubt be stained, and gently places the flower in the grass. There is still a tiny indent in the ground where they buried him, but grass has grown over it so it’s only visible to those who already knew it was there. 

Yuuma starts to get restless. He sighs and rubs his nose and leans heavily against his young Aunt. Kirimi shoves him away, and gives him a dirty look to dissuade him from trying again. One day, he’ll know better. That day is not today.

“When can we go?” he whispers in Kirimi’s ear. “I wanna go play Kaito-sama with Mio and Moki.”

“Shut up, Brat,” Kirimi hisses back.

Yuuma sticks his tongue out at her.

It’s a good thing Renge doesn’t hear them. She’s never liked the way Yuuma gets so obsessed with those stories. It started with a group of wanderers about a year ago. They came for food and water and stayed only three days before moving on, but left behind a marked impression one the young ones. The stories they told of a great desert hero who cut down thieves and murderers with his swords. They called him Kaito-sama, and they insisted that he was real. And maybe the adults would have believed it the way the kids did if it weren’t for the men’s claims that Kaito had the strength of twenty men and could grow to the size of a house to intimidate is enemies. That was just absurd.

Frankly, though, Haruhi didn’t mind if the children believed in fairy tales. In a world like this, it was all they had to cling onto, until the day they were old enough to face reality. She just wished Yuuma could learn a little patience first.

Eventually, the sky grows too dark, and they really can’t wait around any longer. Haruhi senses it’ll be just as difficult to get Renge on her feet as it always is and sends Kirimi and Yuuma off ahead of them. Yuuma is only too happy to go and, though she hides it well, Kirimi must be too. She puts on a brave face whenever she’s near her big brother’s memorial. Haruhi knows the girl wants to cry, but she’s desperate to keep it bottled up, to follow the misguided belief that adults are always brave and never shed a tear. She’s only thirteen, and just as young as Yuuma in some ways. Like him, she will learn someday.

They go off and don’t look back. Kirimi’s pace is slow, and she has to speed up when Yuuma starts to run ahead of her. She shouts after him and he ignores her, so she shouts louder. Haruhi turns back to Renge, who is still kneeling before the tree, her hands at her sides, her head hung low. Haruhi hesitates to approach her.

“Renge?” She remembers to keep her voice quiet and gentle. “I’m sorry, but it’s getting too dark, we have to go.”

When she gets no response, Haruhi has no choice but to get closer. She comes to stand in front of her friend’s prone form. Renge’s eyes beneath her hairline move up for a split second. Haruhi gets down on her knees as well.

“We can come back soon if you like. I know visiting him is hard, but…”

Renge shakes her head.

“I really loved him, you know… I feel like I never told him enough.” She inhales sharply through her nose and dries her tears. To Haruhi’s surprise, she smiles. “To think, I used to be so obsessed with those stupid dating sims.”

Haruhi doesn’t know how to answer that. Silence may be her best bet, especially since Renge is not done.

“He used to- he always insisted on keeping Belzeneff on top of the lamp. Said there was less a risk of getting water on it or something. It creeped me out because if I woke up in the middle of the night, it’d be staring down and me and… and I told him that again and again and he just kept doing it. He treated a piece of cloth like it was his child! It infuriated me.”

Haruhi thinks about all the times she’s gone to wake Renge up for breakfast and found her hugging the old cat puppet to her chest, and says:

“I think a lot of time the people we love do things like that. Things that make us angry.”

“But we love them anyway,” Renge finishes as she wipes remaining wetness from her eyes. “Like with you and the Host Club, right?”

Something stabs at Haruhi in the stomach, something unpleasant like a knife. She sees flashes of old faces, smiling down on her condescendingly, patronizingly, happily, lovingly…

She swallows down something in her throat that wasn’t there before.

“Are you kidding?” she asks, her voice cracking. “All they ever did was drive me nuts.”

“They loved you,” Renge says. “They were all idiots, even Kyoya in his own way, but they loved you to death, Haruhi. The only thing that shocks me is that you were able to trick us for so long. How did I never figure out you were a girl?”

Her tone is playful. There is still sadness to be found, but this is a good start. Haruhi gives her a playful look and giggles.

“Too much yaoi manga, maybe?”

“Ah!” Renge’s eyes light up with her fake epiphany. “That’s got to be it.”

The women sit together for a little longer, backs pressed up against each other’s and faces tilted up. Stars are slowly coming into view, the first of many. With no more city lights, the night sky is always alight with them. If Haruhi could say anything for how the world has changed since it’s near-destruction, it would be that the sky is beautiful. She wishes that were enough.

“You know,” Renge says, moving around to face her. Haruhi glances over her shoulder, her crossed legs holding her lower half in place and this is all she can do for now. “I think out of all of them, Tamaki was the one who loved you most.”

Haruhi snorts and looks away. “That’s a little unfair to the others.”

“Well, he definitely loved you differently.” Renge gets to her feet and walks around Haruhi. She stands over her with a smirk Haruhi hasn’t seen in ages and actually misses. It’s a very Renge-smirk. “And don’t bother telling me you didn’t feel the same way.”

For the second time today, Renge has struck Haruhi dumb. She sits there, lips slightly parted, until Renge can’t keep a straight face any longer and laughs that high class laugh of hers. It’s refreshing to hear, and Haruhi almost laughs with her. Renge then offers her a hand and they start the short walk back home. The only outside light allowed at night is a small lamp that can be seen from half a mile away. Haruhi and Renge follow it’s tiny ball of fire and find Kirimi and Yuuma waiting for them behind the gate. Yuuma is waving at them. Apparently, he’s not going to search for his friends any time soon. They are almost there, with Kirimi’s head of blonde hair shining against the lamplight, when Renge speaks up.

“Do you think we’ll ever see them again?”

Haruhi doesn’t need to ask who she’s referring too. All she needs is that stabbing feeling to come back. Harder. More painful.

And she can see them again in her mind’s eye. Hikaru and Kaoru with their smiles that speak of mischief, Mori-senpai, strong and silent behind the ever happy and cake eating Hunny-senpai, Kyoya with his notebook out and glasses shining as he stands behind Tamaki. Tamaki is in the center, looking back at her with his hand outstretched.

“I don’t know,” she answers. _‘But I hope so, every single day.’_

**  
“There you two are! Haruhi, you had daddy so worried about you!” 

Haruhi is pulled into a powerful grip and spun around off her feet. It still amazes her that her father has this kind of energy when he’s only a few years off of fifty. Of course, the years have changed Ranka just as much as anyone else, maybe more. Gone is the luxurious red hair he’d treasured. His hair dye ran out a long time ago, and once his natural brown was back, he’d taken a page out of Haruhi’s book and chopped it all off. Dresses were impractical for the physical work he’d been assigned to, so it was a good thing he’d held on to some of his ‘man’ clothes and a stroke of luck that they still fit. Now the only thing left to remind Haruhi of her father’s cross-dressing ways were his barely changed mannerisms and the few dresses he kept in his closet. Sometimes, he’d put then on for special occasions. Another member of the building even helped him fashion a wig out of the hair he’d cut. He didn’t look nearly as good as he used to be, but for what they had, it was enough. After a few months, no one said a word about it.

“Dad, come on,” Haruhi says, with her face partially pushed into his scratchy coat. “We know our way around.”

Ranka lets her down, but then pulls her into a regular hug, one hand ruffling her short hair. Haruhi rolls her eyes, but gladly returns it.

“I just feel like you’re a teenager all over again sometimes,” Ranka says. “The slacker kind who goes off to parties and says they’re going to the library, and then come home at three am drunk and expect to not get in trouble the next morning. The only difference is you’re too old to be grounded.”

“Well, I’m always your little girl, dad.”

That sounds strange coming out of Haruhi’s mouth. She feels like it needed to be said, but isn’t that the sort of thing fathers says to their daughters? Not the other way around?

Hopefully, it won’t make him think he can punish her now. 

“Oh, Haruhi, you always know what to say to cheer me up!”

He rocks her back and forth and sings happy nonsense, just like a little girl. Haruhi can’t break his grip and a small part of her doesn’t want to. She doesn’t even notice Renge walk into the kitchen without a word.

They are halfway through dinner when Haruhi walks in, but she’s just in time to get a good meal. The small garden in the backyard won’t be providing much in the coming winter months, but they have enough saved away that they should be fine so long as no one tries to take more than their share. The last trip to the market also brought good fortune in the form of newly cut beef and bacon. Haruhi drinks down the last of her beef stew and excuses herself to bed. 

She’s not actually tired yet, she just wants a little alone time to read and hopefully get her mind off of things. On her bookshelf are twenty five books, most of which were salvaged in the Aftermath and beat up from the moment they were first placed in her hands. She hasn’t had a new book in longer than she knows. Maybe if there is some spare money in the next couple of months, she can buy one from the bookseller. Really, that old woman has so many books in her home, she’d be better off creating a makeshift lending library than just selling them all off. But then this was how she made her money. Haruhi pulled out a book at random. She sat on the edge of her bed and opened to the first page of a mystery book she’s read at least ten times before. 

When she’s on chapter five, she starts feeling thirsty. She sets the book down with her page marked and heads outside to the water pump. She’s walking back inside with a fresh glass of warm water, when Renge appears in the halls. Her door is half open behind her and Haruhi can see the outline of Yuuma asleep in his cot near the window. Renge’s eyes look dull and lifeless, it gives Haruhi pause more than her mere presence.

“Renge, what is it?”

She crosses from the door to Haruhi in three long strides, and then her hands are bunched in Haruhi’s shirt.

“I think they’re alive,” she says. Haruhi almost drops the glass. “Don’t ask me how, I just have a feeling… and if you ever find them, Haruhi, because I know they’ll be looking for you, protect them. Especially Tamaki, don’t lose him. _Don’t lose him,_ understand?”

Haruhi can’t find the words to articulate anything, be it an answer or a reprimand for being grabbed so roughly or something completely off the subject. She waits for Renge to let go and saunter back into her room and shut the door with a resounding click. Haruhi doesn’t move for a long time. She stares after Renge with a fast beating heart and hears nothing through the door. She almost wonders if that really just happened or if she dreamed it up.

**  
Trips to the market usually take place on Thursday afternoon, when it’s the least crowded. Through trial and error, the residents of the Building have discovered this, among other little secrets of the trade that gets them more than others who are less aware might find. 

This week, it’s Haruhi’s turn to make the trip. She is alone except for a basket, a shopping list, and the lingering smell of her father’s newly washed hair. He’d hugged her extra tight before she left today, crying about how nervous it made him to send his little girl out on her own.

“Dad, I’ve gone to the market alone a hundred times,” she’d told him. “There’s not even anyone there on Thursday.”

“Well, alright, Dear Daughter,” he said, though he was likely not convinced at all. “Just remember to be home by sundown, and don’t wander into the forest. There are bandits all over who will rob you blind!”

Haruhi grumbled incoherently and promised again never to do that.

So far, she’s seen about ten other people around, not including the people who’ve set up shop. Haruhi is used to seeing different people every couple of weeks. It’s hard for them to stay in one place for too long. The fact that all the twenty four people in Haruhi’s Building have made it ten years without problem is nothing short of a miracle.

Haruhi has gotten almost everything they need. Her last stop is the bookseller. That little joking wish she’d made several nights ago wound up coming true when another member of the Building handed her a few extra coins and told her to spend them how she liked. Though Haruhi had tried- several times- to refused, the elderly man with the kindly smile and aging eyes wouldn’t hear of it.

“I don’t even need it. You’re a young girl, go get something nice for yourself.”

Haruhi wasn’t sure how young twenty seven counted as, but she didn’t complain after that. She walks along with the heavy basket in her arms, thinking about maybe getting a science fiction book if they have one. She sees something yellow out the corner of her eye and stops.

She whirls around to find a man with black hair carrying a small pile of yellow hay and throwing it on an enormous pile before three cows. They chew it all up while Haruhi feels like kicking herself. Renge’s odd behavior the other night is getting to her more than she wants to admit. For a second there, she thought she’d seen…

But, of course, there was no way. 

Haruhi continues on her way and goes back to thinking about what kind of book she might get. The further up the block she goes, the more crowded it gets, though it’s still not as bad as it is on Friday or Saturday. She still gets bumped by a man walking much to fast from one side of the street to the other. Haruhi’s basket is knocked off her arm and all her newly bought goods go flying. 

“Oh, come on!”

She starts for a fallen box of macaroni and cheese- they wouldn’t know how good it was until later- and doesn’t care if the man who bumped her is sorry or wants to help. She doesn’t even care to yell at him, even though it was technically his fault. 

She does, however, care about the blade he’s pushing against her lower back, and the hand he’s squeezing her upper arm hard enough to bruise with.

“Don’t say a word,” he whispers in her ear. “If you scream, I will gut you.”

A cold sweat comes over Haruhi, though she keeps the fear from reaching her face as the man marches her down the block. Her basket lays forgotten. Haruhi looks around at apathetic shop keepers and shoppers, hoping beyond hope that one of them will look up and see her in trouble. She doesn’t know what they can do against a knife unless they have one too. If only she’d brought her shotgun.

“Move faster,” he says sharply. He shoves her a little forward for emphasis. 

Haruhi grits her teeth and keeps moving.

He leads her to a darkened alley. Isn’t it always a darkened alley? Haruhi thinks there is someone there waiting for them, perhaps two someones. She doesn’t know, and she can’t stop to count, because the next thing she knows, there’s a bag over her head that smells like hay. 

The last thing she sees is the sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sincerest apologies for killing Nekozawa. I don't do these things because I like to, you know.


	3. Desperation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the cliffhanger last time. Hopefully, this chapter will make it up to you. ;)
> 
> It's one of many that I was super-excited to finally write down. There will be others along the way, one of the biggest being chapter 11. I can not tell you how much I can't wait to write chapter 11. :D

By the time the bag comes off, Haruhi has been lead into some kind of carriage on foot, driven miles away from the market and the Building, listened to at least three men argue back and forth over directions, and been kicked off the carriage and marched through a gravel road and into a house with creaky wooden floors. When the bag comes off, the window outside is dark, which means the trip was about as long as it felt.

She's treated to the sight of a musky living room with tarnished furniture and a smell that makes her miss the bag. There's an old crate in the center that must serve as a table, if the buckets and small boxes surround it are any indication. The windows are cracked and the walls have seen better days. There's a fireplace on the left hand side, but she doubts it's been lit in years. Not like it would do this shabby place any good.

Haruhi only sees it for a minute before she's dragged off down the hall. The man in front of her is big and burly, with meaty fists covered in thick hair. She can't see his face, but she imagines it's not pleasant. The man holding her is thinner, but still muscular, with swept back dark red hair and hazel eyes. She might have thought him handsome, had he not done such an ugly thing to her.

In the hall there are doors on each end. She hears pounding and screaming coming from a few of them. Whoever it is doesn't sound like they're being hurt, but that isn't a comfort to Haruhi, it just makes her feel sick to her stomach.

They stop at the second door on the right. The burly man pulled a rusted key out of his pocket and unlocks it. Haruhi is pushed inside and trips over the threshold. She falls to her knees as the door slams shut behind her. She rubs her aching knee and looks up, instantly meeting about ten other pairs of eyes. She freezes, stares back dumbly for a few seconds, and gets back up. In the moonlight, she sees that most of her new roommates are female, though at least two are male. They are all dirty and dressed in clothes that make her baggy pants, tight black tank top and half buttoned white shirt look like designer ware.

The room is cramped, barely any space to walk from the door to the window. Haruhi doesn't know if she should say something or try finding a place to sit. Then a pair of women in the corner move over in either directions, making a small spot for her. Haruhi stands in place, unsure, until one of the women gives her a reproachful look and pats the empty space.

"Won't do you any good to just stand there," she says. Her voice sounds as empty as her posture looks. "You might get picked first."

Haruhi pauses mid-step and almost doesn't start walking again. She knows she's either going to have to ask what the woman means or find out the hard way, but she'd rather just go to sleep and wake up in her bed to find out this was all just a terrible dream. She can't even begin to imagine how bad everyone must be freaking out right now. It's probably been hours, whatever search party her Dad sent out would have gone back by now, empty handed. Her Dad would be miserable with worry. The only up side was the lack of alcohol for him to drown himself in. Maybe his friends would be able to keep him calm long enough to figure out where she was, assuming they could. With all the time she spent traveling, Haruhi doesn't know if she's a mile or twenty miles away from home. There's a very good chance they won't find her, and knowing that makes Haruhi's already aching heart break a little more.

She sits in the corner. All eyes gradually slip away from her as everyone loses interest in the 'new girl.' The woman who'd spoken to her is the only one still paying attention.

"We haven't had anyone new in a while," she says solemnly. "I'm so sorry you ended up here."

Haruhi's mouth twitches. "It wasn't your fault. I'm Haruhi Fujioka."

"Keiko Sumagi," the woman answers, bowing her head low. Haruhi returns the gesture.

"What is this place?" Haruhi asks, though she still dreads the answer.

Keiko pales. She pulls her legs closer to her body like she's trying to protect herself. "Pretty much what you think it is. You heard the screaming, right?"

Haruhi thinks she hears another one right at that moment, but it may just be her mind playing tricks on her. Either way, she needs to take a long, shaky breath to keep the bile from rushing to her throat. Keiko looks on sympathetically.

"How long have you been here?" Haruhi asks.

Keiko shakes her head. "A few months, that's all I know. It's kind of hard to keep track of time beyond day and night."

"If you're thinking about trying to get out, don't bother," one of the men says from across the room. "They have a shit ton of weapons. Don't ask me where they found it all, but they got 'em, and they _will_ use 'em."

The man is shushed and goes back to laying down with his dirty feet out. Haruhi looks away from him back to Keiko. If the woman looked shook up before, now she's a wreck.

"So uh… what were you doing before you came here? Haruhi asks, desperate to keep her new friend from a breakdown.

Keiko relaxes a little, through her eyes are still wide open and wild looking.

"I was living in an old shrine," she says. "A group of Priests and Priestesses were taking care of the elderly. We also had a few children, and I mostly took care of them."

"That sounds nice," Haruhi says. "I live in my old apartment complex. We have a couple of kids there too."

"Are they a handful?"

Haruhi laughs softly. "A little bit."

Keiko almost smiles right there. "I had six of them to look after. They were… rambunctious, so to speak. I loved them to death, though. I remember they always loved playing their little hero games. I think he was called Kaito or something."

"Your kids knew those stories?" Haruhi leans forward, looks Keiko right in the eye. The other woman blinks and then answers.

"Let me guess, the kids in your old place knew them too," Keiko leans back and closes her eyes, looking oddly wistful. "Amazing, how fast things can spread even by plain word of mouth. I think a lot of people forgot with all the technology."

Haruhi nods in agreement. After ten years, she still remembers well enough the light of a television and computer screens, but slowly, they are slipping away from her. It's been so long, and those times are only going to get further and further away. She thinks about all those kids in hers and Keiko's homes and how they'll never waste hours watching anime or playing video games. All those parental groups advocating for kids to play outside more often must be laughing their heads off, wherever they are.

Haruhi would like to say this out loud, but the man from before suddenly hisses at them in annoyance.

"Would you two clam up? I'm trying to sleep."

Keiko shoots him a look, but Haruhi obliges by leaning back against the wall and closing her eyes. The turmoil in her stomach hasn't lifted by much, but she closes her eyes anyway and keeps them closed until sleep finally comes.

**  
The sun is up when Haruhi next opens her eyes. Keiko is asleep with her head resting on Haruhi's shoulder. Luckily, she wakes up a few minutes later and Haruhi gets away with only a mild numbness that is fast to dissipate. The day goes by quietly. Nothing changes except Haruhi is pretty sure there is one more person in the room than there was last night. The newcomer is a skinny woman with long, limp black hair, who hides her face in her hands and cries softly for hours.

The burly man opens the door twice and throws in a few loafs of bread both times. Where one might expect the hungry group to fight savagely over it, the bread is distributed between them, with everyone getting at least half a loaf. The bread is stale and has no taste, but it's better than going hungry. Haruhi eats without complaint.

About three days in, the door opens in the early morning, long before they're supposed to be given their first meal. The burly man walks in with another man Haruhi doesn't recognize. He's short and skinny, with wispy brown hair, bulging eyes, and a long scar running from his cheek to his neck. They walk in and examine the captives, those large eyes scanning every inch of the women in a decidedly non-innocent way. Finally, he points to a blonde girl by the door.

"I'll take her for an hour."

He hands the burly man a couple of coins and the burly man grabs the blonde woman by the arm, forcing her up and out the door with the big eyed man. She doesn't try to resist, but Haruhi thinks she sees her eyes brimming with tears. When she's brought back exactly one hour later, her clothes are messier than they'd been before, and she says not a word to anyone, but goes right back to her corner and faces the wall.

This is how Haruhi spends the next week, eating old bread and staring at the door, thinking about everyone back home worried sick about her. Keiko hasn't said much since that first night, so Haruhi gets used to silence quickly. She counts the hours between breakfast and dinner as best she can. She thinks it's about six, but she can't be sure. What she wouldn't give for a wristwatch.

Or a way out.

Whenever someone else walks in with the burly man, her heart clenches with fear, the way everyone else's does. She almost got picked once, when an over-muscled visitor with vein-y hands was trying to decide between her and another brunette girl with longer hair and a thicker waist. He took the other girl, in the end. Haruhi felt incredible relief as he dragged out the other girl. It was only later that she started to feel terrible for her lack of empathy towards the other girl.

One night, a new visitor arrives who appears to be something of a regular. He's very plain looking, both in face and in build. He looks like he takes care of himself, with neatly combed hair and a clean mustache and beard. He's also the reason two men are among the line-up, as Haruhi discovers when both of them are dragged out before him.

He selects the man who had previously claim there was no escape. He's dragged out while the other one gets thrown back onto the floor. Like the rest, he's back within a few hours and left to lay in the center of the room on his back. The mustached man is arguing about prices with the muscular man when the door closes and they can hear no more.

Haruhi watches him with half-hearted interest. He's quiet as ever and staring up at the ceiling. The moon comes out, nearing fullness, and bathes him in light. Haruhi can see the shaking of his limbs and the places were his flimsy shirt and pants have been ripped through. There are dried bloodstains here and there that look ages old. The only thing that shocks her is there is no putrid smell coming off him. Or maybe there is and she's just been here so long that she's gotten used to it. The man's eye are wide open and staring, but perhaps not truly seeing. He looks, to Haruhi, in a daze, and only when she sees his mouth moving every so slightly does she think she can hear his voice in the air.

She listens closer, and now she does hear it, unmistakably.

"Got to get out… can't take it anymore… got to get out…"

He keeps repeating it and Haruhi turns away from him, trying to block his voice out. Eventually, it stops, and he must have fallen asleep or else lost the will to say it again. Haruhi breathes deeply to make herself relax, as she's done every night since becoming trapped here. It only helps a little, enough to grant her a few hours sleep. It'll be more difficult tonight now, thanks to that man and his mantra.

He wants to get out?

He should join the club.

**  
Morning comes far too soon and Haruhi awakens to Keiko poking her on the shoulder. She wordlessly hands over the day's ration of bread and Haruhi takes a small bite. She's surprised that it's actually a little soft for once.

 _'Maybe it's a sign of good things,'_ she thinks to herself sardonically.

No customers show up that day, and it's just as well. Everyone is silent as ever, including that man. He just stares straight ahead like he always does, like he's dead to the world. Still, Haruhi can't shake the feeling that something is coming. Something big.

She doesn't understand until the burly man comes with their nightly food ration. He's throwing individual pieces from one direction to the next, and he has his back to that man, who suddenly looks up. There's a fire in his eyes that Haruhi didn't think he was capable of.

He lets out an ear piercing shriek and pounces. He's very skinny and small compared to the burly man, but that isn't going to stop him. He grabs the burly man around the neck, wraps his arm around it and squeezes for all he's worth. The burly man wasn't expecting the attack from the seemingly broken man and gasps. He can't even scream probably as he flails this way and that, trying to pry the wild man off of him. He must be stronger than he looks.

Everything that happens after is in slow motion. It seems while everyone is just as stunned by their fellow captives bravery, nobody is willing to stop or help him. They are on their feet and running, and Haruhi follows without a conscious thought of her own. She enters the hall, and sees two more of her four kidnappers scrambling after those who ran out the door first. They are noticeably weaponless. Haruhi hears the other man give a shout, followed by a door being thrown open. She turns and sees his back as he runs inside, and when he's out of view, a silver blade hung up on display. Her legs move on their own again, taking her back the way she came and towards that room. She stands in the doorway and looks inside to a magnificent cache of weapons, ranging from guns to swords to grenades. Where on earth did they find all of this?

She doesn't know, and when she sees the rifle propped up next to the door with several boxes of ammo beside it that looks exactly like the one she left at home, she doesn't care. The man is busy choosing between a series of large and imposing knifes, but Haruhi works fast. She checks the gun to make sure it is loaded and then slings it over her shoulders. She stuffs all seven ammo boxes in her roomy pockets. They bulge uncomfortably, and smack against her thigh when she starts running.

Almost everyone is out now, only a few remain. They've successfully taken down the two man. Haruhi looks in the room she's been kept in all this time and sees both the burly man and the former captive on the floor, unmoving. She thinks about checking them for a heartbeat. The burly man's chest doesn't appear to be moving, but the other man is softly moaning in pain. He opens his eye and rubs the back of his head. He sees Haruhi at the door and seems to read her lack of surety in her eyes.

"What are you waiting for?" he shouts, waving her off harshly. "Go. GO!"Haruhi hesitates another second, feeling like she should say something but having no words to speak with. She runs to the front door, the living area is now empty. She has no idea where the kidnappers have been dragged off to and gives it little thought. Out the window, she recognizes a head of brown hair swishing back and forth as it's owner runs into the woods. It's the girl who was chosen over her. Haruhi watches her until she disappears into the trees and says a small prayer for her.

"I'm so sorry," she thinks aloud.

She takes a step, and another one follows that is not her own. Haruhi swings the gun around and aims at the final kidnapper. He'd been coming up behind he with a small knife and a red face that goes white when the barrel of her gun is inches away from his face.

"Back up," she orders. The voice that comes out of her is strange to her ears, but right now, she likes it. "You hear me? Back away and don't follow me or I will blow your head off!"

He opens his mouth. Haruhi shoves the gun right under his nose and he closes it again. She takes a step back, and then another. She takes ten more, out of the old house and down the weed covered walkway. The man doesn't move to stop her, but the knife is still in his hand. Haruhi gets a few more steps back, her finger twitching over the trigger. If he tries to go after her, she will shoot. She's done it before and she knows exactly where to aim to get in right in the leg and keep him from going anywhere for a long time. The neighbor who taught her how to handle a gun used to praise her skill at aiming.

She's right at the edge of the forest when she turns and runs. She runs as fast as she can and faster, for as long as her body will allow. She thinks at any moment, she's going to hear the sound of him tearing after. His knife will fly right by and scratch against her cheek. Or maybe he has aim as good as hers and will get her right in the back. Then she'll fall to the ground and try in vain to crawl away from him. He'll stand over her with a horrible grin on his face and take the shotgun from her, level the barrel to her face and pull the trigger.

It never happens. Haruhi hears nothing but the sounds of the forest as she runs deeper and deeper in. The trees become so thick, she can't see the moon anymore, and it's at that point that her body can do no more and she needs to stop. Haruhi slows to a stop and lets herself fall to the ground in front of a large and shady tree. She curls up between the deep seated roots, using a patch of cold, yet soft, grass as a pillow. She falls asleep right there, with her heart pounding in her ears and the gun on her back.

The forest is endless. That's the only observation Haruhi can make after a day of walking by trees and rocks that all look the same to her. She'd once heard that following a stream was helpful in finding your way. It would be great if she could only find a stream, or any body of water for that matter.

Her mouth was dry like someone stuck a wad of cotton inside. She almost misses the water she was given while a captive, but getting that back would require becoming a captive again. She isn't that desperate.

Not yet.

She tries to focus on the task of finding water. It's an imperative and her most important priority next to finding a village, and far more worthy of her thoughts than what she's actually thinking about. Whenever her mind wanders, she hears her father, crying out her name and fearing he'll never see her again. She sees Renge in her room, crying silent tears of her own while Yuuma sits beside her. He probably hasn't been told exactly what's going on, but surely he notices his Aunt Haruhi isn't around anymore. Kirimi will probably be the one dying to form another search party. If no one listens to her, she'll try and go herself, but Renge will never let her. She'll lock the girl up in their room if that's what it takes, because Renge can't handle losing someone else she loves.

When it's really bad, her father's voice changes. It becomes one she hasn't heard in years and would give anything to hear one more time. He calls out to her, his 'precious daughter,' and the twins will but in to make some kind of stupid comment and Tamaki will scream at them while Hunny-senpai tries to drag her off to share some cake with him, which Mori-senpai would agree to and Kyoya would be watching over it all with his glasses pushed up and a cool smile on his face.

Haruhi's heart aches. She misses them so much she can barely stand it.

She walks on and on for hours. The few spots of daylight that shine through gaps in the dying leaves start to fade. It's getting so dark, Haruhi will have to stop soon. Really, it's amazing she's last this long with no food or water or light. At least she has a weapon, but that doesn't do her much good if she's too weak from hunger to wield. Another couple of days without finding anything and…

Haruhi finds a tree like the one from last night to lay under. Hell, it might be that same tree and she's just spent the day walking in a big circle. She sits with her back and head against it and closes her eyes. She tries to ignore the little voice that reminds her she could be attacked at any moment, by a wild animal or worse. There's a tiny, unmentionable part of her that wonders if that would even be a bad thing. She's lost her friends, and now her family, and she's lost in a dense forest with no idea where to go and should she even bother trying anymore?

That part of her is hardly the majority, though. Never is that more clear than when a twig snaps, and she's on her feet and grabbing her gun in an instant. She holds it steady, squinting her eyes and looking out. If she could only see, she'd know if there was a legitimate threat and not just her imagination playing tricks on her.

She's about to lower her gun when she hears it again and brings it back up. Her finger shakes over the trigger. Shooting in the middle of the forest probably isn't a good idea. Who knows what kind of attention a sound so loud could get, especially if there really are bandits running around.

Haruhi stands in wait. She hears no more for the longest time, but stays in place. Very slowly, though, her fears are abating. It might have just been a rabbit running by, or perhaps a squirrel. That doesn't mean it really was, though, and Haruhi keeps alert of every inch of the ground before her. She steps out from the tree, not quite in the open, but enough that she can see a little better. The seconds pass like hours, and still nothing happens.

She's close to lowering her gun again, with her finger off the trigger and everything, when someone jumps down behind her and delivers a swift punch to her lower back. Haruhi gasps and goes down. She clutches the barrel of the gun, and thanks whatever God might remain that it doesn't go off. Her assailant is moving around her now, but Haruhi wastes no time. She jumps to her feet and kicks wildly, getting him in the stomach. Now it's his turn to fall, and Haruhi is ready when he picks himself back up.

"I don't have anything," she says, going back to that unrecognizable tone she'd used the day before. "I have nothing worth stealing. Leave me alone and I promise I won't-"

She's cut off when someone grabs her from behind. She tries to look over her shoulder, but it's too dark to see anything but the second man's spiky hair. His muscular arms around her are tight and unrelenting, but Haruhi struggles regardless.

"Calm down, would you? We're not going to hurt you as long as you cooperate and give us whatever you've got," the man holding her says. His voice is as rough as hers. Rough and… familiar.

Haruhi gets one arm loose enough to elbow him in the gut. She then forces her way out of his grip while he recovers from the blow. She can't see the other one now, but he's got to be around. Haruhi berates herself for not realizing sooner that there were two of them. She tries to find her gun amid the darkness, but one of them must of taken it, or else kicked it off into the distance. She sees the second man as gotten his bearing and has something in his hand that can only be a weapon. That's what Haruhi thinks, until he clicks it on and a light shines in the darkness. Then, she can't help but stare in amazement. She never thought she'd see a working flashlight ever again. The man point it at her, illuminating her.

"Would you just-" he stops. The steady light begins to quiver, like he's having trouble holding it. Haruhi has no idea what he's trying to pull, and the sound he's making, like he's a hair's breath away from screaming, doesn't help at all.

Here she is, alone and defenseless, two against one, and now he's playing games with her instead of just robbing her and getting it over with.

"Well?" she says bitterly, and holds out her arms in surrender. "What are you waiting for? You've got me, don't you?"

"You-" he chokes out. He falls to his knees and fights to keep the light on her face, blinding her. "You- you're here- you're alive…"

And is she crazy, or is he crying now? That sniffling she hears can't be anything else. What is going on here?

Someone is running up to them, the first of the bandits probably. Haruhi jumps out of the way when he runs at her. She's ready to just run away and leave her gun behind, loathed she may be to abandon it, and then something truly insane happens. The second man drops the flashlight and throws himself in front of her.

"NO!" he shouts.

"What are you doing? He'll get away!" the first bandit screams back as he fights with his partner.

"Stop! Hikaru, stop! It's Haruhi!"

Those words, those names, freeze Haruhi in place. Suddenly, running is the last thing she wants to do, as the fight comes to an end and the second bandit's words penetrate the first bandit's thick skull. Haruhi snatches up the flashlight. For a brief moment, she sees her gun next to the tree about two feet away, and then she has the light on the bandits.

She sees red hair, spiky like the day she met them. She sees their black clothing and golden eyes staring back at her. She sees their lips quivering and the tears freely streaming down Kaoru's cheeks and Hikaru… oh, _Hikaru,_ the scars on his face…

Haruhi doesn't know what happens next, not with clarity. She knows there is crying, a lot of it from all three of them. She knows there are two pairs of arms around her on either side, and that she's trying her best to hug them both at once. She knows there are two voices endlessly saying her name, and she knows her voice is endlessly saying theirs. She knows that they cry and they hug and they endlessly say each other's names all night long, until the sun is peeking out over the trees, and they are all still there, exhausted, but happier than they've been in ages.


	4. Execute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this isn't the most eventful chapter, sorry about that. It is, however, extremely important, particularly at the end. Things are going to get good from here.
> 
> And for the record, yes, you will learn what happened to everyone in the Host Club, along with a few of the side characters. One will actually have a whole chapter dedicated to them, but that's a long way off, and I won't tell you specifically what chapter even though I know it. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Haruhi isn’t aware that she’s fallen asleep until she next wakes up. She’s been waking up in a lot of strange places lately. Surely all this instability in location is going to take a toll on her soon. She doesn’t think she’s ever woken up to find herself wrapped tight in the arms of a pair of twins, with their heads bent and lightly touching hers. She’s facing Kaoru, his peaceful face filling her vision. She doesn’t mind it that much, nor does she mind Hikaru pressed up against her back. Quite frankly, she could lay here all day until the sun went down and not complain.

Because _they were here._

She’s almost disappointed when Hikaru stirs, and his hand swings out and knocks Kaoru across the face by accident. They both groan and shift positions, moving slightly away from her. Haruhi misses their warmth almost immediately. She thinks Hikaru must’ve opened his eyes first. His arms go around her again and pull her close. Kaoru’s eyes flutter open now and he smiles at her, and wraps them both in a hug that is gentle and loving. Haruhi rests her head on his shoulder, so that now, neither of them can see the look of pure joy on her face. Surely they are still those cocky teenagers who will hold it over her head.

“You know, I don’t remember falling asleep like this last night,” she says.

“Do you even remember falling asleep at all?” Hikaru asks in her ear. “Because I don’t.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true…”

They remain as such for a while longer, until someone’s stomach lets out a whine. Haruhi isn’t going to rule out the possibility that it’s hers, but she won’t admit to it either. Kaoru is the one to finally suggest that they get moving, and then makes a statement that makes Haruhi only slightly less deliriously happy then reuniting with them did.

“The nearest town is a couple of miles away. We can make it by tomorrow morning if we go now.”

So they start walking in the direction of the less dense parts of the forest. Now with the sun up and the sky cloudless, Haruhi can see them better than she ever could before. She is not surprised to find herself walking in between them, and she doesn't mind it much. She draws the line at holding hands though. She hopes they know that.

Despite what happened last night, conversation is hard to come by. Haruhi wants to say something, desperately so even. It's been so long and they've changed so much. Their faces are aged ten years and they look like they haven't slept recently. They wear tight clothing, likely for ease of travel up in the trees, that show off leanly muscular bodies. Haruhi tries not to stare at Hikaru too much, though she's overflowing with questions and hard pressed for a way to phrase them without offending him.

There are two scars on his face, but they are the same on each side and must have been received all at once. They start at the corners of his mouth and curve upwards to the tops of his cheekbones. They look bumpy in places and white in others. The skin around them is red, possibly from infection. From far away, they make it look like he's smiling a distorted kind of smile. From up close, Hikaru's mouth is in a line, and somehow that makes the scars look worse. Haruhi forces herself to star straight ahead and not look at either one of them. She badly wants to ask, to know what's happened to them to bring them to this point, but her mouth is sewn shut. It isn't her place to ask.

They continue on in silence, it gets to a point where Haruhi feels like she'll burst if nothing is said. She hasn't seen them in ten years, and now it's like they used up any emotional connection with her last night and have nothing left to say to her. Are they really so different now?

A little voice in her head answers in scathing tones, and reminds her that she's really one to talk. Haruhi sighs inwardly. She looks up at Kaoru, and is surprised to find his eyes already on her.

"So what have you been up to, Haruhi?" He asks. Haruhi can sense Hikaru's eyes on the back of her head. She feels a slight chill.

Haruhi stops to think of a response, because even though she knows what she's been doing all this time, it's a weird thing for Kaoru to ask. Isn't it obvious? She's been doing exactly what they've been doing: trying to survive. Albeit through different means. Haruhi is reminded that she only found the two of them again because they thought she was a man and meant to rob her. Her stomach sinks as she wonders how many other travelers they've crossed paths with. She notes the knife holsters around their waists. They each look about a foot long, and Haruhi can only imagine what the blade itself looks like. How sharp the blade is and how pointed the tip is. They must make perfect tools for protection, and whatever else one may need them for.

"I've been fine," she answers, and the words sound just as awkward out loud as they did in her head. "Living at my old apartment complex with my Dad and a few others. It's kind of cramped, but we've done well so far."

"At least you have a steady roof over your head," Hikaru says with a snort. "I think I've successfully counted every single star in the sky, we've slept outside so many times."

Haruhi giggles in spite of herself. She can't help it, this classic cheekiness is a breath of fresh air, a godsend, a reminder that this is real and she's not dreaming. Hikaru's mouth twitches, almost into a smirk. It must be good for him to know that he can still joke around and she can still laugh.

Kaoru, meanwhile, is rolling his eyes. "Don't listen to him, he's exaggerating. We're always able to find old buildings to stay in when it's needed. Usually in the wintertime or when it rains. Camping out is otherwise a last resort."

Haruhi says nothing to that, just nods her head and keeps looking forward. She's honestly afraid to continue with the conversation now. No matter how much she tries to steer away from what happened last night, and the questions she has, it will keep eating away at her until she has to ask. She listens to the leaves crackling under her feet, trying to ignore the sound of their breathing. There are masses all around the area. It makes her happy that she only has to deal with the excess of one tree and not one thousand. It would take an army to clean all this up. When she looks down, Haruhi can't even see the dirt ground. Her boots press down on hidden twigs and rocks, in time with Hikaru and Kaoru's steps. Their boots are, of course, much nicer and cleaner than her. They must take good care of them. Where did they get them anyway? Did they buy them or…

Haruhi bites back a sigh. There are times when she hates being right and this is one of them.

She takes a deep breath, careful not to be too loud so not to draw attention to herself.

"I know what you're thinking."

She jumps, and her heart may have stopped beating for a second there. Hikaru is smiling at her. It accentuates the scars, makes them harder to ignore, and makes his smile look manic. His eyes carry a warmth, though, that puts her at ease. She'd still rather they never have this conversation and that he not continue with what he's about to say.

"It's okay Haruhi, you can ask about the scars."

A moment passes, and then another. Haruhi lets out a breath. This isn't an ideal topic either, but at least it's slightly better than the alternative.

"I wasn't really… you don't have to…" she trails off, not knowing what to say. It comes out as incomprehensible words that she can't put together into a coherent phrase.

Hikaru must interpret that as shyness, because he grins and pats her back in a way meant to reassure. It does little more than brush away a few stubborn leaves the wind has been blowing around.

"It's actually a pretty simple story," Hikaru says. "Not even a big deal."

The way Kaoru tenses on her other side, and the tightening of his features that is evident when Haruhi looks up at him, makes her think it's very big deal.

"It happened about four years ago. We started hanging out with this group of bandits who mostly hit travelers alone at night. They seemed like nice guys, all thing considered. Kaoru and I didn't realize just how bad they were until they started planning this raid on a little village that was already struggling to find food and keep the peace. The leader wanted us to make the initial strike, and we refused. He didn't like that, tried to force us into it by threatening to not share food with us and make us sleep outside in the rain. Kaoru told him off right there. That you should've seen, Haruhi, because it was pretty awesome."

Hikaru laughs. Kaoru doesn't join in. Haruhi alternatives between looking at each one. Hikaru is enjoying telling his story, Kaoru looks like he'd give anything for Hikaru to just stop talking.

"So the leader orders his guys to grab us, and once we're tied down, he whips out this giant knife and goes at Kaoru. He was saying something like 'going to teach you not to run your mouth off' or something. Anyway, I wasn't about to let my little brother get hurt, so I started yelling at him. I called him some even worse names, whatever I could think of. I asked him 'where do you think Kaoru gets it from? He only repeated what I've been saying for months.' It did the job. Kaoru got away with only some bumps and bruises, I got the knife in my mouth one way, than the other."

He hooks his fingers around the side of his lip to further illustrate. It's unnecessary, Haruhi can already imagine how it looked, and it makes her stomach turn. She may not have been there, but she has the sudden image of Hikaru on the ground. He's held by three men, all big and burly and ugly as sin. Two more men are holding Kaoru back, as he struggles to reach his brother and screams for help that will never come. Then another, larger, more terrifying man appears. He wears a monstrous grin and holds a knife aloft, the gleaming blade is sharp enough to cut through bone. He forces Hikaru's mouth open, his grip is so strong, Hikaru can't shake him off. He puts the blade into Hikaru's mouth, the sharp end facing out and-

Haruhi takes the deepest breath she can, holds it for a second, then lets it out.

"That sounds terrible."

Hikaru shrugs. How he can be so casual about this, she'll never know. "I made it through, that's all I care about. It doesn't even hurt anymore, just the right side, when I lay on it for too long. It starts to sting a little."

He runs a finger lightly over the scar on the right. Haruhi can only see a little of it from were she's standing, but what is visible of it does look worse than the right side. Deeper and more jagged. There was a slight redness that may have been merely the sun playing tricks on her, but Haruhi can't help thinking of infected wounds and how they start.

"But it must've been awful," she says without thinking. She doesn't entirely regret it when Hikaru chuckles.

"I would be lying if I said I wasn't scared, but it was a long time ago."

Haruhi can't help wondering how Kaoru feels about this. He hasn't said a word and Haruhi can't even hear him breathe. She almost looks at his face again, but something stops her. He lets out a long sigh, and it eases her nerves a tad.

From there, there is again no talking. They keep walking, as hours go by and the sun sails overhead from one side to the over. It's on the verge of setting when the three finally stop. They are in a clearing with trees all around them. They are black against the sun, covered in empty branches that loom imposingly overhead. Haruhi walks around the edges, looking for fallen branches. Kaoru does the same, but at a much slower rate, because he's arguing with Hikaru about how and when to start the fire. He comes back with significantly less than her.

They sit around the growing flames and Hikaru distributes the bread he's been carrying. There are only two loaves, and Haruhi doesn't need to ask why. The twins glance at the bread, then at Haruhi, then at each other. They seem to speak entirely with their eyes, and when Hikaru breaks both pieces in half, keeping one half for himself, tossing two more halves at Kaoru and Haruhi, and then storing the final half away in his bag.

"Won't be much of a breakfast, but we should be in town by tomorrow anyway," he says.

Haruhi eats silently. The bread is slightly stale, but she won't waste a single bite. It's still so much better than what she got from her kidnappers. The only thing bugs her about it is that she has no idea where Hikaru and Kaoru got it. Or how.

Damn, there she goes again.

Haruhi scowls, and it doesn't go unnoticed.

"Don't like it? Join the club," Hikaru says with a huff. "You know what our chef used to make that was great? This sashimi salmon dish that she formed into all different shapes with this great sauce on the side that she made herself. That was our favorite snack when we were kids, remember that, Kaoru?"

Kaoru, who seems less despondent now, smiles and shakes his head wistfully.

"It's been years, I barely remember what they taste like."

"Don't tell me that," Hikaru says with mock horror.

Haruhi laughs softly, though the unasked questions still ring in her ears.

"I'm not bothered by the food, you guys," she says.

"Yeah didn't think so. Isn't this what commoners always eat anyway?"

Haruhi thinks about responding to that, but that'll just draw attention away from more important matters. She's coming to realize that she can't do that for much longer.

"I was just thinking…" she looks down at the bread, it's crumbling at the end where she's sunk her teeth into it.

"Thinking about what?" Hikaru asks. "About what we're going to eat tomorrow? We have some money on us, it's okay."

"And where did you _get_ that money?"

Though she says it softly, and means it only for herself, the way everything goes deathly silent sends fear coursing through Haruhi. Fear that she's been heard.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kaoru asks, unintentionally confirming her fears.

Haruhi hesitates to answer, though she knows there's no way out of it now. Her toes curl in her boots. It occurs to her that she's had them on for days and her socks are probably filthy.

"It's just… you're bandits, right? You can't expect me not to wonder…"

Hikaru sighs, and there's a gravelly sound like he's twisting himself around on the fallen tree they're using for a bench.

"Haruhi, is that really what you think of us?"

In spite of everything, Haruhi wants to laugh at that, if only a little bit.

"You guys tried to rob me before, that's pretty telling."

"That's not fair!" Hikaru gets to his feet. "I mean, yeah, we've hung around with bandits, but… we only do it when we have no other choice! And we'd never go after a woman or a kid or an old person or…"

He stops and sputters a little, knowing he's not explaining himself well. He finally gets fed up and sits back down on the log, his head down. Kaoru, who's been silent this whole time, finally gets up and moves to sit next to Haruhi.

"I know that looked bad," he says softly. "We learned from those… those people Hikaru told you about. We mostly just travel around, find places where other survivors live and try to beg food off of them. Sometimes we get a little money and we use that. It's like Hikaru said, we only steal when there's no other choice, and we don't hurt anyone unless they attack first."

Haruhi listens carefully, and thinks it all over when she's done so that she'll know exactly what she should say in response. This is starting to get difficult, but she thinks it's lucky for her that Kaoru does most of the work. He's far easier to deal with than his brother under stressful situations.

"Wouldn't trying to rob them technically count as attacking first?" she asks, looking up at him again. "And if you guys don't go after women, why did you attack me?"

Kaoru purses his lips and moves his side to side a few times. "I try not to think of it that way."

That's not a good enough answer, and they both know it, but Haruhi tells herself that's all she needs. It's clear they only do it out of need and feel terrible for it. For now, that's good enough, especially now that she has an alternative in mind that she'll have to run by them soon. First…

"And as for your second question," Kaoru continues. He doesn't go on from there. He looks down as his cheeks start to turn red. Haruhi has no idea what he's getting at until Hikaru looks up again, face expressionless, tone flat.

"We thought you were a guy."

There is a long silence, longer than before, but less tense. And then Haruhi bursts out laughing and has to hold her sides when it gets out of control. Slowly, and with greater humor than perhaps they even knew they still possessed, Hikaru and Kaoru laughed with her. The laughed and laughed and laughed well into the night. For the second night in a row, they were asleep from exhaustion before they knew it.

**  
They start off again in the morning, leaving nothing behind but a burnt out fire and a few crumbs for the birds to pick at. Haruhi quickly finds herself in between them. She's surprised they haven't tried holding her hands yet. Yesterday's conversation is still fresh in her ears, and the stab of pain she feels when she thinks about what they must have been doing all this time is abetting, but isn't completely gone. That brings her back to her idea, and she figures now is as good a time as any to give it a try.

"I was thinking," she says and instantly has both of their attentions. "Since you guys don't have a permanent place, do you want to come back with me? We've taken out a few walls to make for bigger rooms, but I'm sure we can find space for you two. Only if you want to, of course."

Hikaru and Kaoru share a look, one Haruhi can't decipher. Then identical cat-like grins spread across their faces.

"Oh, Haruhi, what a silly question that is," Hikaru says.

"Of course if you're going back to your place, we're going with you," Kaoru continues.

"I mean, do you really think, now that we've found you, we're ever letting you out of our sight again?"

They then go on walking, this time hooking their arms through Haruhi's and gently pulling her along with them. Haruhi go with it at first, but slips out after they've walked a couple of yards. Since she doesn't try to move out from in between them, they don't complain, though Hikaru does pout at her for a second. Haruhi doesn't know why she ever thought she'd get a different answer than that. It's not even the fact that they are still so possessive of her after all these years.

It's that they've reminded her that she's never going to let _them_ out of her sight either.

**  
It rains that night.

Over the remains of the region is a heavy rain that borders on hail. Anyone with good sense and a roof over their heads runs for cover, bolting door and barring windows. Those of do stay out either have no choice or no fear of the merciless raindrops pelting their skin. It's only one town, deep, deep within a forest and situated next to a lake, that a group of twenty men and women stand outside of their own volition, to watch an event that will not be rescheduled no matter how much rain falls.

Before them is another man, this one on his knees and shackled. His hair is in disarray since before the rain started. He is covered in dirt and dried blood, only some of which is his own. He breathes heavily and sends vicious glares at whoever his gaze happens to fall upon. No one is intimidated by him, not now. Not anymore.

They all wait in silence, with only the droplets of rain and the seething of the prisoner to break the silence. A door opens behind the crowd and a new figure steps out. Nobody turns to look at him, they just step, as one, to the side to let him pass. In the near darkness of this night, he has the look of a looming shadow. He is large, especially to the kneeling prisoner, and his eyes are hard and unforgiving. The coldest pair of eyes the prisoner has ever seen.

A shiver goes down his spine, but still he puts on a mask of fearlessness.

"You know, you're a major disappointment," he says as the man approaches. "I've heard all the stories. Don't know a person who hasn't. I bet it'd be really funny if they knew you were just a normal man. Know what I mean, Kaito- _sama_?"

He spits out the honorific like it's a curse. A few of the crowd members bristle, and step closer to the man, reaching for whatever weapon they happen to carry on them. The man stops then with a wave of his hand.

"You like to talk," he says evenly. "I recall you had a lot to say when you killed two of my men as well."

Behind them, a pair of women, who lean against one another for support, have tears in their eyes that mingle with the rain.

The prisoner snorts and leans back a little, so that his chains clink and clank. "Hey man, they attacked me first. Survival of the fittest, you know?"

The man raises an eyebrow. He flexes his fingers around the hilt of the of blade strapped to his belt. He pulls it out, the massive blade gleaming in the near darkness. How this is possible, no one can say. Perhaps it's just a trick of the light, creating by the fear that clouds the prisoner's mind and that he can no longer hide from Kaito's smirking visage.

"Then you admit your own weakness."

The blade slides through the prisoner's throat like butter. The pathetic man gasps and chokes, as the man sinks the blade into his chest and lets him fall. Within seconds, the prisoner is still, his blood pooling all around him, to be washed away by the rainfall. The man pulls his blade out and walks back the way he came with it still in his hand and fresh with the blood of it's latest kill.

"Have that burned in the morning," he orders the man closest to him. "Make sure it doesn't stink up the place until then."

"Yes, Kaito-sama. I swear it will be done."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The type of scar Hikaru has is called a Glasgow Grin. The Joker in The Dark Knight has something similar, though obviously, Hikaru doesn't wear clown make-up and he's not a demented sociopath either.


	5. Makeshift

Three men stand in an old building that probably used to be a school. If not that, then a hospital. They are standing beneath a gaping hole in the wall that moonlight shines through. It's a beautiful night, warm and with clear skies full of stars. The rotting wood is damp from last night's rain, and has a weak, yet distinct smell that invades the mens' senses and makes them uncomfortable.

They all wear black and other dark colors. The one in the middle is the tallest and the broadest. His head is hairless, his eyes a murky brown. He has stubble on his cheeks that never seems to grow into a full beard, and when he opens his mouth, a chipped front tooth leaves a gaping hole in his grin. The man to his right is shorter and quite noticeably round in the middle. His face has double chins and is currently covered in bruises. He has an ugly black eye that leaves him able to open only one of them. His mouth hangs open, making him look mentally challenged, when in reality he can't close his mouth because of the pain. The final man is the shortest, with bulging muscles beneath close far too small for him. The collar of his shirt is stretched beyond recognition, but he never changes it. It makes his strength more obvious, makes him look like a greater threat. His shoulder length, unkempt hair flows passed his shoulders, knotted in places and wavy in others. His eyes are nearly pitch black and filled with malice. He clenches fists that have knocked out buckets of teeth and ended more lives than he can count. If he ever kept track, and if things went his and his partners' way this night, he'd have one more fatality to add to the list by sunrise, and he couldn't wait.

The tall man stares up at the full moon, lips curled into a snarl. He looks down at his partners, leaning over the fat man and looking at him over his brow.

"He's not here," he says. "You said he comes around here at night."

The tall man is used to people cowering in fear when he does this, but the fat man is either extremely brave or extremely misinformed, because he doesn't back down.

"You really think he's going to just come in when he sees us waiting for him? He's here all right, but he's not going to just come to us. We have to make him."

The short man sneers at the black space in front of them that shrouds the other end of the room in total darkness. He has no fear of it.

"Shake him out? I'm down with that."

He punches his fist into his open palm a few times and starts for the darkness. The tall man rolls his eyes. What was he thinking, bringing this moron along? It was a shame he was so good and cracking skulls or the tall man could've disposed of him already.

"You're not going to find him like that," the fat man calls after him.

"Lay off, Fatass."

The fat man glances at the tall man, the two sharing a moment of mutual distate for their over muscled headed companion. The small man trapezes around, his boots slamming against the wood and possibly splintering it from the ugly cracks that occasionally accompany his steps.

"You out here, One-Eye?" He shouts through cupped hands. "Hellooooo? You have some Gentlemen Callers here for you, sweetheart!"

He snickers like he's just told the world's most amazing joke. The tall man shakes his head.

"Get back here, you idiot, we need to make a plan."

"I have a plan," the small man shoots back, arms crossed cockily. "Smoke this douchebag out and then break his spine in half. Sounds like a good plan to me."

He goes back to searching for the target ("Heeere, Cyclops Cyclops Cyclops! Here, boy! Got some treats for you!"), while the tall man decided to forget him for now and focus on the fat man.

"So, how do we find him?"

The fat man considers this. "Well, he's definitely not going to come out on his own now, no thanks to that idiot."

He jerks a finger at the small man and the tall man nods in agreement.

"So we'll just have to find him ourselves."

"We'll have to be quick about it, and quiet. This area we're in right now, he's going to avoid it all night, and by that I mean this whole floor. So that means he's most likely on the second floor. He can't go any further because all the floors beyond that are unstable, even for one person. Now, there are two staircases leading to the second floor. The one closest to us, unfortunately, is caved in. The other one is still good, though. We just have to leave him behind; tell him to stand guard or something. You and I-"

_Creeeeeeeeeeak_

All three men immediately ceased activity. The tall man and the fat man's heads snapped up to the ceiling. The small man came back into view, following the sound to right about the other two men. The stared at the ceiling, as the squeaking slowly came to a stop. The tall mad stood rigid, not willing to move for at least another couple of minutes, so that he could be sure it was really nothing but a mouse or the building settling.

The small man wasn't so cautious.

"Little bastard's on the move," he says with glee. "We're getting him on the ropes, and pretty soon we'll have him in actual ropes, am I right?"

"Maybe, maybe not," the fat man answers. "But either way, please stop trying to be witty, you're only hurting yourself."

It's then that the tall man decides the fat man is indeed misinformed, because as much as he doesn't like the small man, he knows better than to say it out loud. He's seen the small man angry before, and it's never pretty. Especially not now.

"You want to say that again?" The small man's voice is low and dangerous. He bows his head a little, so only his eyes can be seen. The fat man is unfazed and unconcerned as he turns up his nose and walks away.

"Hey! I was talking to you, you fat piece of shit!"

By now, even the tall man can't concentrate on anything else. He is worrying about the fight he's going to have to break up and misses the shadow on the floor, and doesn't see the gun barrel pointed in their direction.

"Talk about my weight all you like," the fat man says. "With your miniscule intellect, there is nothing you can say that would hurt me."

"Alright, THAT'S IT!"

The small man rips off his jacket, his biceps bulge and tear a little at the seams of sleeves. He cracks his knuckles and starts for the fat man.

"Could you just suck it up for once?" the tall man groans.

"No way, this asshole insulted me twice and he is not-"

**BANG**

**BANG**

**BANG**

The fat man got hit first. He goes down, screaming and clutching his leg, while the small man stands over him in shock until the second shot strikes his own leg. As they are crying out in pain, the tall man feels something rip through his ankle, in one way and out the other. There's an explosion of pain as his strength utterly fails him. He pitches forward, stopping himself with his hands before he gets a face full of splinters. The three of them scream and curse as a dark figure emerges from the broken ceiling. He stands tall, his posture confident and full of surety. He crouches down to soften the fall and jumps. He straightens up again and stands over them. An assault rifle is on his back and he has two handguns in holsters on either side of his waist. He is in black like them, from his boots to the black of his hair. His one grey eye stares down at them, the other long since lost to him and covered by a ratty old eye patch. Amid the pain and unspeakable rage he feels towards this man, the tall man thinks he'll need a new one soon.

"Nice work, following me here," the one-eyed man says. He stretches his back, looking around at the filthy walls and windows. "I really liked this place, it made for a good hideout. Thanks to you three, I can't come back again."

"FUCK YOU!" The small man screeches.

The one-eyed man doesn't spare him a look.

"I suppose I'd have had to move soon anyway, this place is on the verge of collapsing."

He walks around them, the fat man lunges at him with a roar, but the attempt is pitiful at best. He is in horrible shape and can do a thing with that leg of his. The one-eyed man looks down at him, possibly sympathetic, but probably not.

"You robbed me," the fat man seethes.

The one-eyed man furrows his brow, then nods. "Ah yes, I thought you looked familiar. I did tell you before that you've mistaken me for someone else. I've never stolen a thing in my life, which is more than I can say for you, I think."

He starts walking again, no longer interested in the fat man and his impotent raging. He makes it to the door, then looks back at them, smiles coldly.

"I wasn't about this place falling apart. Look at that roof, it's about to go." He opened the front door, which lets out an ear splitting shriek. "The exits right here, if you start crawling now, you might make it out by sunrise."

He lets the door close behind him, leaving the three man alone to either curse him to the depths of hell, or just stare up at the sky and loathe him in silence. By the time the sun was up, even the small man had resigned himself to the latter.

**  
Kyoya walks along a dirty old gravel road, thankful for the moon in the sky guiding his way. He can't say he's happy about those men and their attempted ambush on him, but at least they picked a night with clear weather.

He's not worried about being ambushed again. He's been through these fields countless times over the years, and the biggest possible threats to him are likely still dragging themselves to the doors and wishing death upon him in the meantime. Kyoya feels a little like laughing.

As he walks, he checks both handguns to make sure they're still loaded. He hasn't used them since yesterday morning, but he's learned to never assume anything where they are concerned. He could one day find himself facing down a group of robbers who would have no qualms about killing him where he stood. He could pull out a gun and find it empty, and that would be the end of him. He keeps them covered by a dark blue duster jacket he found abandoned ages ago. It had been covered in dirt and the thought of wearing it reviled him. It took at least twenty washings before he deemed it suitable, and after all this time, he actually liked it a little. There were worse things one could suffer through than a flea bitten jacket.

A light wind blew against him, his coattails sway with it. Kyoya closes his eyes and breathes in the fresh air. It feels nice now, but he'll hate it by morning if he doesn't find some sort of shelter soon. Sleeping outside was a worst case scenario for him, both because of the danger, and because his- as Haruhi would have called it- 'rich kid' sensibilities were still with him enough that the idea of sleeping on the grass was nothing short of repulsive. Needless to say, he'd been driven to it many, many times.

Fallen leaves roll along at his feet, some of them unlucky enough to be crushed underneath his boots. When something much bigger than a leaf smacks into his ankle and gets stuck there, Kyoya stops. He lifts his leg a little to see the crumpled scrap of paper wrapped half way around his pants leg. It strikes him as odd. Litter has never been an uncommon occurrence, just not all the way out here. It either traveled very far, or someone has been by this way. Kyoya looks around, not expecting to see anyone, but again, wanting to make sure. He then pulls the paper off of him. He reaches for the chain around his neck, pulling out the broken half of his old glasses, the lens of which is miraculously intact and clean. He holds it to his single eye and absently scans the first few lines of faded writing. It doesn't hold his interest at first, but as he goes on, something strikes a chord in him, something deeply familiar. Kyoya reads the paper to the end, then reads it a second time. Then a third time.

By now, his head is full of faces and voices he hasn't heard in years and expects never to hear again. One in particular rings in his ears, shrill, unbearable, but strangely comforting. And as he reads the paper a fourth time, angering.

Kyoya breathes deeply through his nose, in and then out. He debates with himself a while what to do with the paper, whether to stuff it in his pocket or let it go with the wind. His hand curls around it as he is deliberating. It crackles, bent even further out of shape. He recites certain phrases in his head, the ones that pertain to his dilemma. He is a reasonable man and he knows this is most likely wishful thinking on his part, that even if it's true, there's nothing he could possibly do about it anyway, that all he should be focusing on anymore is protecting himself, because it's not like he has anyone else to protect anymore.

But there is still a side to him, one that a certain blond headed idiot brought to light many years ago and has never really left him, that tells him it could be true.

And if it is true… what about the rest of them?

Kyoya starts to walk again, slower and with softer steps. The paper is still tight in his grip and he still doesn't know what to do with it.

**  
 _They have a game of tag, Tamaki's idea. The winner gets to pick the next cosplay. Tamaki runs and runs as fast as his legs would carry him, but it's Hunny-senpai who comes out supreme in the end. Tamaki cries in the corner while their oldest member jumps for joy. He shoots a regretful look at Haruhi, who wonders now just what kind of dress up game he had in mind if he went to so much trouble to win. She doesn't complain for a second when Hunny-senpai announces his decision._

_By next week, Kyoya has had the club room transformed into Candy Land. There is a mountain of cakes in one corner, a chocolate fountain in another. Somehow, he's gotten the regular curtains replaced with ones made entirely of cotton candy. There is a chandelier hanging from the ceiling that is rainbow colored and appeared to be entirely candy canes and sugar treats. Haruhi stands beneath it, dressed to the nines in a poofy white and blue dress with a bow in her hair and a giant fake lollipop in her hand. She knows how futile it would have been, but she wishes she'd complained about this when she had the chance._

_She's said it before and she'll say it again._

_Damn rich people._

_When she decides it's time for a break from her adoring guests who think she's just the cutest thing in her 'cross-dressing,' she steps away from her table and watches with vague interest as Hikaru 'accidentally' tips his half finished bowl of melted chocolate ice cream on Tamaki's back. The self-proclaimed king, currently in between guests, shrieks to high heavens and scares the pants off a nearby Hunny-senpai. Hikaru laughs and runs when Tamaki lets out a scream of rage and pounces._

_The chase begins. Kaoru, though apparently not involved in Hikaru's little prank, joins his brother in running. It just wasn't right unless both of them received the brunt of Tamaki's impotent anger._

_"Get back here!" Tamaki shouts at them. Flicks of chocolate fly off of the back of his head as he runs. Some of it gets on Haruhi's face and she scowls. On the return trip, she steps right in Tamaki's path, trusting him to see her in time, and she is not wrong. He skids to a stop. Hikaru and Kaoru keep going. Haruhi shakes her head and takes her senpai by the sleeve._

_"C'mon, Tamaki-senpai, let's get you cleaned up."_

_"But, Haruhi…" whatever objection his has is left unsaid, with only a weak gesture in the twin's direction to give her a hint._

_She leads him to her table and motions for him to sit. She leaves for a few seconds and comes back with towels, one wet and one dry. She uses the first to remove most of the chocolate. There are a few spots that are harder than others, mostly around the neck. Haruhi rubs hard, as hard as she can without hurting him. Tamaki doesn't say anything else, but his breathing goes back to normal and she thinks he's got enough control over himself that she won't have to worry about having a double homicide on their hands._

_"Thank you for the help, Haruhi," he says when she's setting aside the moist towel for the dry one. His voice wavers like he's on the verge of tears. Haruhi can't see his face to confirm it, but she really hopes it isn't true. "You're the only one I can depend on around here."_

_Haruhi chuckles. "Hikaru was just trying to get a rise out of you. He doesn't mean any harm."_

_"He's one half of a pair of demons, Haruhi," Tamaki says matter-of-factly. "His only true aim is mischief and tempting you towards his wicked ways. But don't worry, Haruhi! Daddy will always be here to protect you from them."_

_Haruhi rolls her eyes, but says no more. She's too busy with the final bits of chocolate anyway. There's one particularly stubborn bit near the left side of his neck. She rubs at it harder, a little too hard since Tamaki hisses in pain. Haruhi lets up at once._

_"Sorry, Senpai. There's a little bit left on your neck that won't come off."_

_He gasps softly in understanding. "That must be my birthmark you're scrubbing at. It's definitely not chocolate."_

_Haruhi blinks twice, then squints her eyes to get a better look. She notices a few differences now between the spot and the rest of the chocolate. The spot is slightly darker, and hasn't faded the tiniest bit with all her washing and drying._

_"Oh," she says, feeling a little embarrassed. "I never noticed that before."_

_"Really?" he asks, sounding more amused than surprised. "I've always had it."_

_Haruhi brings the towel to his hair to brush out the excess water. Tamaki is laughing softly now, and Haruhi is trying not to let a blush creep onto her face._

_"Yeah, well-"_

**  
"Haruhi?"

Haruhi opens her eyes. They are assaulted, first by the blazing sun, and then by the people walking around in old looking clothes passed rickety buildings. Some of them talk amongst themselves, most seem to be traveling alone. Haruhi feels a rush of gratefulness that she can no longer count herself among them.

Hikaru beside her is watching her closely, perhaps afraid she'll disappear into thin air the moment he blinks.

"Were you sleeping?" he asks. "You had your eyes closed for a long time."

Haruhi looks at him and shakes her head. She clears her throat and her mind, removing the image of a smiling blond in the hopes that the dull ache in her chest will go with it. So far, not much luck.

"No, I was just thinking," she says with a shrug. "Thinking about stuff. Nothing important…"

She glances around. They're in a little village that is so small, it can hardly even be called a village. There is are just two streets, albeit long ones. One is nothing but broken down and half burned buildings that look and smell like the dead. It was the first street the trio passed through. Haruhi had taken less than three steps across it's border, and that was more than enough to leave her ready to sprint the rest of the way if it meant getting out faster. Apparently, most of those buildings, despite their outward appearance, were still inhabitable. Haruhi looks at them and sees endless broken windows, charred wooden posts, the decaying remains of roofs that caved in long ago, and wonders how many equals 'most.'

She can't say they are lacking in resources, though. She has just finished scarfing down two apples that are grown nearby. Hikaru and Kaoru still put her shame, seven had to be shared between them before they were satisfied.

"Eat like that, and you'll get fat," she had said jokingly.

They just smirked at her, their mouths full of apple pieces.

"You're just jealous because we have more."

Haruhi locks that memory away. She wants it close if she ever again starts to doubt that the Hikaru and Kaoru she knew were gone. Truth is, you can't keep a good Hitachiin down. Now, she just has to confirm that for everyone else.

And to do that, she has to find them.

Haruhi closes her fists. The idea of searching for the rest has been in her head since she first laid eyes on the twins. She saw how haggard they were, and also how strong. The years had taken their toll on all the survivors, and those who lived on were tougher than they'd been ten year ago; harder. She thinks about how the others might be right now. Kyoya can't have changed too much, he was already the most ruthless person she'd ever met in her life. Hunny and Mori were master martial artists. She can't imagine any bandits or ruffians hapless enough to try and take them on would get very far. Tamaki…

Well, Tamaki was a special breed, wasn't he? Haruhi tried to picture what he must be like now, but all she can see is that idiot who wrapped women around his finger with his natural charm one minute, and then cried in the corner about something or other the next. He was like a child at heart, naïve to a fault and always up for anything. It'd taken a long time for Haruhi to admit even to herself that she loved that part of him.

It had taken even longer to admit that she loved everything about him.

And the thought of him alone in a world like this…

"Haruhi, you know you're spacing out again?"

"Huh?"

Haruhi's head snaps to the side. Hikaru has an eyebrow raised and a smirk that is downright infuriating. She would smack it off if he were anyone else.

"I told you, I'm just thinking."

"Pfft. Must be some intense thoughts."

"Intense _private_ thoughts," she mumbles as she looks away.

She ends her train of thought there, secretly thankful for Hikaru's interruption. Her mind was going into dangerous territory; places it should never be and never give any credence to.

What did she know how Tamaki- or any of them at all- would survive this. If she knew anything about the Host Club, it was that they all had so many different sides. Sides that she could never fully comprehend even if she spent her whole life with them.

She wonders what Hikaru is thinking about right now.

"Kaoru should be back soon, right?"

Hikaru looks at the sun. "It's close to sundown, he shouldn't be much longer."

Haruhi nods. She tries to think of something else to say, but a shrill scream interrupts her. She sees a little boy is a faded blue t-shirt, about to run by. He holds a beat up rag doll by it's stringy hair that most assuredly belongs to the weeping little girl who is chasing him.

"Give me Polly back!" She screams. Her pigtails are going loose as she runs faster. "Give her back!"

"No way, Crybaby!" The boy answers back.

He reaches Haruhi, tripping a little over a large stone that slows him just enough for her to make a move. The boy flexes his fingers around the air the doll once occupied, then looks up at Haruhi. She gives him a hard look as she holds the doll to her chest. She remembers similar incidents back home when little Mio had to deal with Moki and Yuuma's teasing. She remembers how she and Renge handled it.

"This doesn't belong to you. You don't take things that don't belong to you without permission. Understand?"

The boy flinches. His mouth is open like he wants to argue, but by now the girl has caught up, and he clearly doesn't want anymore confrontation with her now that he's lost her treasure.

"Whatever… stupid toy anyway…"

He kicks at the ground a few times and then runs off. Haruhi shakes her head and hands the doll back to it's owner. The little girl beams at her.

"Thank you so much, Miss," she says. She holds the doll to her ear and then goes on. "Polly says thank you too. She didn't like that rotten boy."

The girl runs off before Haruhi can answer, but waves goodbye over her shoulder first. Haruhi watches her go with a faint smile on her face. She'd never been much for dolls at that age, only the big, fluffy stuffed animals she could rest her head on while she read a new book. She can't help think of Usa-chan and Kuma-chan. She doesn't recall Hunny-senpai or Tamaki-senpai having them the last time she saw them. For some reason, this stabs at her chest.

Hikaru leans back with his arms crossed, far too relaxed for where they are sitting beneath a dried out and molding fountain.

"So now you're Haruhi: Savior of the Children, huh?"

Haruhi chuckles.

"It was just a doll."

"You did a good thing," he answers, smiling fondly at her. "Nicest thing I've seen in years."

"You're exaggerating," Haruhi says, grinning back. She can play that game too, and he knows it. "Don't tell me you and Kaoru have never tried to help your fellow man all this time."

"Oh, we've down plenty of altruistic things, thank you."

Haruhi is ready to ask just how many they're talking about, and then maybe request a detailed description of each one to see if he'll freeze up completely and sweat while he struggles to make an excuse, or begin proudly retelling his and his brother's exploits like it's the legacy of some great war hero and drag it out until Kaoru comes back to add on to the story. She just about to do that when the door to the bar next door opens, and a man with slightly glazed eyes staggers out muttering something about too many spiders inside. What grabs her attention isn't him, though, it's the voices wafting out from inside.

"I'm telling you, she saw him plain as day."

" _The_ Kaito? The one from those children's stories."

"They're not children's stories, dumbass. I mean, maybe they've been exaggerated for the kid's, but believe me, this guy was real. And let me tell you, he was scary. He-"

The doors close on them and she can hear no more. Hikaru's scoffing is all she hears now. She turns around and he's shaking his head, clearly annoyed.

"I swear, everywhere we go, people are talking about this Kaito crap. Young and old, even. When did people get so dumb, anyway?"

He crosses his arms like he won't be moved. Haruhi wonders if he's ever gotten into an argument about this. Knowing him, it's entirely likely.

"I take it you don't believe in him."

Hikaru eyes her analytically. "Do you?"

"No, but the stories don't bother me," she answers. "The kids at my place love them. They play pretend games about him all the time."

"And that's just asking for trouble," Hikaru says. "Even if he is real, I guarantee you, he's bad news. They say he's some kind of desert Warlord, ruling over his land with an iron fist and that he could kill you with his bare hands if you crossed him. If I had kids, I wouldn't want them within ten miles of someone like that."

Haruhi gives a half shrug of agreement. "Yeah, but he's just a legend anyway. Nothing to get worked up about."

"I won't get worked up anymore when grown adults stop talking about him like he's real."

He goes silent there, and Haruhi thinks he's not going to speak again and that the conversation is now dead. She looks straight ahead again at the setting sun and purple sky, and not a minute later, finds she was only half right about her earlier assumption.

"Going off-topic, did you know you were shaking in your sleep last night?"

Haruhi blinks, but doesn't turn around. "Shaking?"

"Yeah, like a leaf. Were you cold or something?"

Haruhi thinks back to last night. Of course, she can't say how she acted when she was unconscious. She can't even remember what she dreamed about, if anything. She has had dreams in the past, and something heavy drops into her stomach when she thinks of them. Those are the kind of things that would have her shaking. She never though she could have one and then just forget about it the next morning. Maybe having another person on either side of her actually did help.

"I don't know, could be," she says like it's nothing. "Nights around here can get cold, no big deal."

She doesn't look at Hikaru's face to see if she's convinced him. She has a sinking feeling that she hasn't, but that's neither here nor there when a flash of red enters her vision. Kaoru runs at them- sack in hand- like he has all the hounds of hell on his tail. He screeches to a stop before them and Hikaru is immediately on his feet, ready to help his little brother if something is really wrong.

"Hey…" Kaoru says after he's caught his breath. "Sorry I took so long. I was coming back, but-"

He stops to gulp in more air and then hands a piece of paper to Hikaru. It's faded yellow and without lines. It's lightly ruffled and there's a huge chunk missing off the top. It looks like it's been violently ripped off a wall. Hikaru glances at it, but is more concerned with Kaoru than reading it.

"What is it?" Haruhi asks.

Kaoru is bent over with his hands on his knees, but waves at the paper with one. The signal is clear, and Hikaru reluctantly looks away from Kaoru to read.

"Come one, come all," he begins in monotone. "See the Amazing Fighting Boy-Man. With the body of a child and the strength of a bear, do you have what it takes to take him on? Cash reward for anyone who can last three minutes in the ring without losing consciousness or limb."

Hikaru turns the paper over quickly, allowing Haruhi a quick look at the picture-less front and the scribbled, barely legible writing. How Hikaru- or anyone else for that matter- could decipher it is beyond her.

"So what is this thing?" Hikaru asks with boredom. "Some dumb circus attraction that passed through here?"

"Read it again." Kaoru says insistently. "Doesn't it remind you of anyone?"

Hikaru furrows his brow. Haruhi steps up as he lifts the page back to his eyes. She reads over his shoulder, the handwriting looks a little better in the light.

"See the Amazing Fighting Boy-Man," she reads aloud softly. She resists the urge to laugh. Hikaru was right, it certainly sounds like a silly freak show. "With the body of a child and the strength of a bear…"

_Body of a child…_

_Strength of a bear…_

It hits her and Hikaru at the same time, and Kaoru knows it. He nods his head when they come out with it in unison. The perfect timing and equally shocked tone puts his and Hikaru's old games to shame.

"Hunny-senpai!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all liked Kyoya's introduction. I'll admit right now I only took one of his eyes so I could put him in an eyepatch. There is no plot relevance here. Don't deny that he would look beyond sexy with an eyepatch. *winks*
> 
> Coming soon: Hunny-senpai! And maybe a few more surprise appearances. Stay close.


	6. Hunters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter alert! Short chapter alert! Man the helms!
> 
> Yeah, just thought I'd let you know. Stick with it, though, the next chapter will be longer and will bring back another old friend. Can you guess who?

When the rain stops and the sun is drying the land, it's time to go hunting. Five men are chosen for the job. They rotate with fifteen others every couple of weeks. The only one to go every single time is their leader, who oversees them from whatever high vantage point he can find. Sometimes it's a tree branch, sometimes a rise in the land. Today, he's on top of a boulder, still, like he's a part of the rock himself. Icy eyes scan the surrounding area, burning into the backs of his hunters as they creep about in search of their prey.

Two of those men stick together, unlike their partners who prefer to go solo. They are both quiet, unassuming, and not at all accustomed to hunting. Neither of them have gone very often. This will be their third time, the last one being over a year ago. They hold their guns aloft, awkwardly facing different directions though they have no idea what they're going to do if that actually see anything. The taller of the two, who is really only a fraction of an inch taller, glancing out the corner of his eye at his partner.

"Is he still watching us?" he asks out the corner of his mouth.

The other man needs a moment to answer. "No. I think Uragiru got his attention. He's facing north by northeast."

"Didn't ask for co-ordinates," the first man- whose name is Sagi- mumbles, though he's still quite relieved. He's getting tired of the hair standing up on his back because there's there judgmental eyes watching his every move.

Sagi is as loyal to Kaito-sama as anyone else in town. Really, he is, but that doesn't mean he has to like the man, and he really doesn't. He's been a member of the small, but growing community since long before Kaito ever set foot inside their boundaries. That was eight years ago, Kaito had been with them for five, and leading them for three. Those first two years, Sagi never spoke to him, or even noticed him. He'd been quiet back then, never venturing too far unless in the company of Yoikagi, the former leader of the town. Sagi's chest constricts when he thinks of Yoikagi, with his disarming grin and cheerful, yet abrasive disposition. Losing him had been like a knife to the gut for so many of them. They could only be grateful that his killer hadn't gotten away with it.

Yoikagi was like the exact opposite of Kaito-sama. Where Yoikagi was loose, Kaito is stern. Where Yoikagi laughed with the ease of a schoolboy, Kaito never cracked a smile that wasn't cruel or bloodthirsty. And yet the townspeople marched on when Yoikagi fell and Kaito rose up, and they were doing quite well for themselves, thank you very much. Sagi likes to believe their work ethic and determination to survive is all that they need, but he knows that the guiding hand hovering over them drives them further than they could ever go on their own.

He knows they needed Kaito-sama, but he doesn't have to like that too much either.

His partner- whose name is Takagi and who used to be a cartographer in the old days- is even worse with a gun than he is, and that's saying something. Sagi is a pacifist. He'd been raised in a devoutly Buddhist family and even though he'd been disconnecting from the faith somewhat when The End happened, he still clung on now that his parents and grandparents were no more. He prayed for them every night, prayed that they'd been good enough in their lives to not have to come back to this awful, ruined world. When he wasn't doing that, he was making up whatever excuse he could not to have to use one of these double shotguns- or whatever they were called. Normally, he could come up with something: extra work to be done in town, a bad leg, wife might be coming down with something. Then there were days like today, when nothing came to mind and he was stuck. Takagi's presence is the one saving grace. They could just spend the next few hours huddled together with their guns gathered in their arms, never to be used.

They walk along the expanse, occasionally looking out to see how Uragiru and Shingi were doing. Those two are newcomers, which is why they were chosen for hunting duty today. It's something of a rite of passage, a test to see that you were trustworthy. So far, they seem to be passing. Kaito-sama hasn't run his machete knife through either of them yet, so that has to be a good sign.

Kaito-sama has chosen a new rock to watch them from, one bigger than the last. Sagi thinks he liked the shorter one better. At least then Kaito only looked a little like a hawk stalking his prey instead of a lot.

He feels Takagi's hand snatch his arm and squeeze. Sagi winces, but the real pain is in his stomach when he looks out and sees what is bothering Takagi so much.

There is a deer in the distance, maybe ten or so feet away. The animal is just prancing along, stopping here and there to sniff the ground before moving on. It's antlers are long and brush against the branches on either side, but the deer is unbothered. It has no idea that it's demise lurks right around the corner. Really, if it had been anyone but the two of them, the poor beast would be died in the dirt by now. As it is, Shingi and Uragiru have already wandered off, Kaito presumably with them.

"What do we do?" Takagi whispers.

The deer turns it's head, almost catching sight of them, but it's eyes slide right by as it changes directions. It's coming closer. Sagi's gun becomes heavy in his hands. He wants so badly to drop and just run right back to town and into the arms of Kanako, his sweet and always understanding wife. His mouth goes dry as he struggles to think of a response. He feels Takagi shaking with fear. He gets any worse and he'll probably void himself. He's pretty much useless right now.

Sagi gulps. He hates going hunting, and he hates the gun in his hand and he hates that when he raises it level with the deer's bent head and fingers the trigger, he knows exactly where his hands are supposed to go and how to remove the safety before he fires.

**BANG**

Sagi drops the gun.

He lets out a whimper and falls to his knees, head in his hands. The gun as his feet is clean and unfired. Takagi beside him is white as a ghost. Kaito-sama behind them lowers his gun. He marches through them towards the beast, which is on the ground and screaming as it kicks out it's three good legs futilely. The one that's been hit has blood pumping out of it. The creature's kicks are already starting to weaken. Kaito-sama approaches it without hesitation. One of the legs comes close to getting him in the gut, but he just sidesteps in the blow. He stands behind the deer, aiming now directly at the back of it's head.

**BANG**

The deer is still.

By now, Uragiru and Shingi have heard the commotion and run back into the clearing. They make it in time to help Kaito-sama drag the deer across the way to their cart. They stop in front of Sagi, but he's not back on his feet yet. He only knows they're there from the shadows over him and the way Takagi continues to whimper.

"You don't like hunting, do you, Sagi-san?"

Sagi isn't sure how to take how formal Kaito sounds. It's like he's not even angry or upset. Sagi looks up and hopes it's not just an act.

"No, Sir, I don't," he says.

"Which is why you always want to get out of it."

"Yes, Sir."

Kaito-sama stares at him, as if considering just what he's going to do about this. Sagi wonders if this counts as insubordination on his part, and what, if so, Kaito plans to do about it. He knows that it can't be good and leaves it at that, because actually thinking about it is only going to make him nauseous.

"I understand," Kaito-sama says.

Then he and the others move on, without another word spoken between them. Sagi slowly straightens up and follows them, Takagi sniffling in his wake. They ride back into town immediately, even though they should have stayed out another two hours at least. Sagi makes sure to put as much distance between himself and Kaito-sama as he can. He doesn't want to risk locking eyes with the man again, and feel that horrible, frosty gaze on him again, freezing him in place.

**  
They've left the town the following morning. They might have stayed longer, but Hikaru and Kaoru are even more weary of the denizen's choice of housing than Haruhi is. After one night of staring at the ominously gray clouds though a broken window in a room with no beds, they've all had enough. They pack up their meager belongings and newly purchased food and head off, with nothing else but the clothes on their backs, the crumbled up flier in Haruhi's pocket, and the dubiously useful directions from a kindly old woman running a fruit stand.

"Oh, they were an awful bunch, those circus folk," she'd said. "I do remember the young man they where parading around like some kind of animal. I was surprised when it turned out he really could fight. I was for sure he'd be splatter all over the place within the hour. Their caravan left only a week ago, but the next town is straight that way, about ten or fifteen miles. I hope you can catch up and find your friend. He was a sweet young man."

They bought three over ripe bananas and thanked her for the help.

That was close to dawn. It's somewhere afternoon now, and Haruhi hasn't seen a hint of a building or another human being. She and the twins make small talk, mostly about things they used to do together. She brings up the Candyland cosplay and Hikaru's like prank on Tamaki. They adopt duel evil grins, and Hikaru's scars make his look even more twisted. Haruhi also detects a hint of sadness, which makes her think she shouldn't have brought it up. She changes the subject as quick as she can.

When the sun is close to setting, they have their first human contact in hours. There is rustling in the trees that Haruhi is about to chalk up to rabbits and squirrels when she hears a voice. An angry voice. A voice that screams and howls explicit words that Haruhi has never even heard her father say. Then three men burst out and onto the road. The two on the sides are supporting the one in the middle, who has one leg shoddily bandaged, with blood all over his pants that seeps out through the open spots in the gauze. He's much shorter and more muscled than his tall and thin compatriots. He is also red in the face and the one whose been screaming all this time.

"That fucking bastard. I swear… as soon as I can walk on my own, I am going to hunt him down and rip his throat out. Maybe I'll take out his other eye too. Let's see him shot that pussy ass little pop gun of his then!"

"An assault rifle isn't really a pop gun," the tall man on the left mumbles.

They are walking towards Haruhi and the twins. She looks over at them and they are watching the men approach same as her. The difference is they don't seem all that willing to help, and Haruhi can't say she blames them. She hasn't even spoken directly to him yet, and she's already taking a dislike to the loud, injured one.

"Excuse me," she says when they are about to pass. Crazed eye land on her, and she regrets ever saying anything. "Do you guys need some help?"

"FUCK OFF!" the small man screams at her.

Hikaru and Kaoru grab her and shove her behind them. They stand tall and threatening, though there's little the man could do to any of them with his leg like that. While he continues to seethe, his friend on the right gives them an apologetic look.

"We're fine, thanks," he says.

They speed up a little, and the small man hisses in pain, but they pay him no heed. Hikaru takes Haruhi by the hand and pulls her along with him and Kaoru. They shoot glares at the small man's back and then that's it. Nothing more is said about the incident.

Eventually, the sun begins it's descent and the sky turns orange. Haruhi stops in her tracks when a low whine issues from her stomach. She covers it with a hand, cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment, but Hikaru and Kaoru chuckle at her.

"Yeah, I know the feeling," Hikaru says.

"I think this is as good a place as any to stop for the night," says Kaoru.

They are one the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. The nearest swatch of trees is far enough away that it's barely a line of green in Haruhi's vision. She drops the knapsack she's carrying, while Hikaru and Kaoru plant their's in the ground right beside her. They munch on bread and apples and look up at the stars when they appear. Haruhi finishes her meal feeling full, though not particularly satisfied. It's common for her, now that really good food is so hard to come by. She smiles when she thinks how all the once rich people like Hikaru and Kaoru deal with it. Honestly, though, she's never heard them complain.

"Do you think it's really him?" she asks them. She raises her head a little to look at them.

"You mean Hunny-senpai?" Hikaru asks. He nods. "Yeah, I think so."

Haruhi isn't so reassured. "I keep thinking it's going to wind up being someone else and this is all just a big goose chase."

Kaoru snorts. "And how many people Hunny's size do you know who can also fight like he does?"

Haruhi concedes the point with a shrug, but she's still not convinced. "It could be his brother, for all we know."

"I don't know," Kaoru says. "I think Chika was still at that age were you haven't had your growth spurt yet."

"Assuming he's still alive, he could be way taller than Hunny by now."

Haruhi doesn't really like to think of people she used to know, however briefly, as possibly still alive, and so she just nods in agreement and smiles like her worries have been abated. She wonders when they will try to pry further, because there's a very good chance they aren't buying it.

Silence reigns until Hikaru lets out a moan like that of a child waiting for a long car ride to be over.

"I haaaate bread, I'm sick of it," he whines. Haruhi looks up and is unsurprised that Kaoru is rolling his eyes.

"Well, it's all we have right now," he says.

"We need to try hunting once we find Hunny-senpai. First, we need to find out if cake shops still exist so we can have something to bribe him with to go and kill something for us."

It seems in his desire for something better to eat, he's forgotten that Hunny-senpai isn't really as strong as a bear.

"We can hunt for food anytime," Kaoru says. Then he glances at Haruhi and his mouth curves into a grin. "By the way, Haruhi, have Hikaru or I ever told you how we hunt?"

They haven't, and it must be a really good story, because Hikaru shoots to his feet and seems to forget all about how deathly hungry he is.

"We have a fool-proof method," he goes on for his brother. He looks around and frowns. "It would be easier to show you if some trees were nearby, but we can make do."

He shares a look with his brother, the kind that makes one think they can communicate telepathically, and can have full, mental conversations with each other full of intricately personal information in the span of ten seconds. Kaoru walks out about two feet and stops. Hikaru remains in place and crouches down low. He looks out beneath his eyebrows at Haruhi, who remains in place and watches them wearily.

"Alright, now pay attention, Haruhi," he says. "Maybe one day, we'll let you help us out with this if you're extra good. I'd like you to pretend that I'm a deer, prancing along across the forest, looking for some leaves to eat or a brook to drink from or something. While you're doing that, pretend that Kaoru is in a tree."

"A tree?" Haruhi asks. She's not liking where this is going.

She likes it even less a second later when Kaoru lunges at Hikaru. He grabs him from behind, lifting one leg around his brother's waist like he's trying to ride him. Hikaru fakes a howl that sound nothing like the sound a deer makes. Kaoru then runs his fist hard across Hikaru's neck in a slicing motion. Hikaru gasps dramatically and falls to his knees, Kaoru having taken his cue to get off of him. After going through the long and drawn out 'death' scene, Hikaru splays himself out on his stomach, his fingers and head twitching while Kaoru applauds his 'performance.' Haruhi doesn't know whether to laugh hysterically or bash her head against the large rock to her right.

"You have got to be kidding me," she says, getting up. "There is no way you guys have ever done that, you'd get killed!"

"Oh, Haruhi," Hikaru says, pausing to spit out some dirt that got into his mouth before sitting up and continuing. "You wound us so. It's like you don't trust us to be careful or something."

"That's exactly what it is," she says under her breath."

"Unfortunately firearms have never been our strong suit," Kaoru says, shrugging. "The few times we've tried… well, needless so say, we've had to come up with alternate methods to get meat."

"This is just something we've been working on, an idea of ours," Hikaru says.

 _'Ah,'_ Haruhi thinks to herself. _'So they've never actually done this.'_

She feels a little better knowing that, but she's still concerned. She sees they are still grinning like fools and thinks maybe they're just messing with her. She has to admit, she does feel in better humor after watching their little spectacle. Her anger at them is ebbing away as well. And for once, she'd kind of like to get in on it. She smirks at them and raises her shoulder a little, lifting up her shotgun for them to see.

"You know, _I'm_ pretty good with a gun," she says. Their smiles instantly fade. "If you guys really want some meat, I might consider helping you out."

She struggles not to laugh when they glance at each other, something like fear passing through their eyes.

"Oh right, forget you had that," Kaoru says.

"Now that you mention it," Hikaru says. "You do look pretty badass with that thing, Haruhi."

She allows herself a soft chuckles and a shake of her head and nothing more as they all sit back down to watch the sky and wait for day to come again.

**  
Haruhi, Hikaru and Kaoru stand under the cloudless, mid morning sky with the sun on their backs and the wind keeping them cool. It would help if Haruhi wasn't already feeling so chilly. She glances behind her at the straight, one way road they've been walking all this time. She looks ahead of her at the two roads it splits off into. They are both barren as far as she can see, but at least one of them has to lead into a town. Question is… which?

Hikaru has already suggested that the old woman was wrong, and he's been shot down. There were only two roads into that town, the one they came through and the one beyond it. They would have seen the caravan if it was going in the opposite direction.

Haruhi has thought about going back the way they came, even though that's impossible. They won't have enough food or the money to buy more. Haruhi has nothing left of what she had the day she was captured. She's afraid to ask what Hikaru and Kaoru have.

There is no choice. No choice but to choose.

And it's Kaoru who makes the choice in the end, because they simply can't keep standing here and wasting the daylight. He takes the right hand path and doesn't stop, fully expecting the others to follow him, and they do. Haruhi goes last, trailing far enough behind Hikaru that she knows they're eventually going to make her speed up. They don't like it when they can't see her, she's noticed, it makes them anxious. She can only hope they'll relax a little bit soon and stop worrying that she's going to disappear on them.

When she next turns around, she can't see the fork in the road anymore, and she feels uneasy, and she prays they haven't made the wrong choice.


	7. Frayed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I'm going to be busy for the next week or so cleaning out my house and packing all my stuff to move, here's chapter seven early. You're welcome!

At the end of one road is a quiet settlement that is the end of the line. There is nothing beyond it but dense, uninhabitable forest that will eventually lead you straight off a cliff if you walk too far. The settlement itself is very small, encompassing only about 300 or so feet. It's really more like a single street than anything else. Those who reside there have their basic needs met, with food easy to come by from either hunting or going into one of the bigger towns several miles off. The conditions aren't all the comfortable- most of them haven't had a truly warm blanket in years- but they make due, and they've done well thus far.

Today is a very big day. The oldest resident of the settlement, who also happens to be a doctor whose saved at least half of the other resident's lives at one point or another, is celebrating her 70th birthday. For her advanced age, she is a spry woman. Her pepper gray hair is cut short, falling around her eyes, but never obstructing her view. She can always be seen with her trust first aid kit in hand. The official supplies it came in ran out ages ago, but she makes due with what can be purchased and what she can make herself. As the settlement is abuzz with preparations for her 'Surprise' party, she wanders around, checking everyone's work and ready to help out if someone gets hurt. Her middle aged daughter and son-in-law have given up trying to make her go inside. She's not one to change her mind once it's been made up, and she's decided she's going to stay and watch no matter what they say. It's not just for her job, though. She absolutely deplores the color orange and has to make sure none of the makeshift decorations wind up that color.

She comes across one of the men in the settlement. He's not as familiar to her as the rest, having only arrived about a month ago. He's a tall, silent fellow, and strong as an ox as well. Here he is carrying seven boxes all by himself. How he can see where he's going is beyond her, but he easily side-steps without a single box shifting position.

"Oh, Dear, isn't all that too heavy for you?" she calls after him.

He doesn't answer with more than a grunt, and she doesn't know what that's supposed to mean. She might think it an insult, but he hadn't sounded rude about it, just distracted.

He puts them all down in front of the old church building, that's slightly caved in and isn't used for much anymore. He removes each one from the pile and places them in a neat row. Inside are old antiques and knick knacks found in the basements of various houses. She doesn't know how good any of that stuff could be after all this time or what good they would be for her birthday party, but she trusts her loving family to know what they're doing. Maybe something in those boxes would be good enough to give her as a present. Maybe she could sneak a peek herself later and find something for her daughter's birthday. It was only two months away.

The tall man straightens and looks out, stretching his back to get the kinks out as he blows air out his nose. He turns to face her, and she smiles warmly at him. He doesn't return it. He's not even looking at her now, it's like she's invisible to him. She's beginning to think he really is just rude when his hands drop to his sides, and his mouth opens wide like he's completely dumbstruck.

She turns herself, to see just what he could be looking at, but there is nothing of interest aside from more trees, the road into town, and her son-in-law chatting with a trio of travelers. Two of them are identical, probably twins, but that's about the only thing special she could see.

"Is something wrong?" she asks the tall man.

He walks right by her without a word.

**  
Haruhi is angry with herself. She doubts she could be angrier thank Kaoru is at himself because he's the one who picked this path in the first place, but the point still stands.

The tiny town they've found themselves in is alive with people walk to and froe. Some carry boxes as baskets, some shout directions at others, some look like they're just taking a leisurely stroll, enjoying the warm, sunny day. They have nothing beyond their borders, that's the first thing the man they're speaking to said. He's a man in his forties or fifties with graying black hair and a noticeable paunch. He isn't carrying anything more than a basket full of yellow flowers that look newly picked.

"And you're _sure_ no one has come through here recently?" Hikaru says, stressing key words.

The man frowns, and gives a sympathetic shake of his head.

"No one like what you're describing," he says. "You three are the first visitors we've had in over a month. I'm so sorry I can't be of more help."

The man excuses himself, leaving them with nothing but an invitation to stay the night and 'join the festivities.' No one bothers to ask what's being celebrated.

"Great," Kaoru says, hanging his head. "Just great."

He stoops over against an old, rotting telephone pole. Bits of wood are shaken off and land in his hair. Kaoru doesn't notice, so Hikaru brushes them off.

"Don't be like that," he says to his brother. "At least we didn't have to walk far to get here. That means it'll be easy to get to that other road. And now we know that's definitely where they went."

Haruhi didn't know about Kaoru, but that certainly reassured her. She hadn't forgotten about little time it had taken them to get there (only five or six hours), but standing here now, her feet aching all for nothing, it feels like they're going to be walking for days on end to get back to where they started. She wants to just lay down on the ground and fall asleep. She wouldn't care who saw or who had to step over her. Actually, it might be a good idea to take that man up on his offer to let them stay the night.

"Hikaru's right, Kaoru," she says reassuringly. "We're one step closer to finding Hunny-senpai. It's going to be okay."

She rubs his arm softly. He looks up at her, still looking defeated, but perhaps a little less so. He's in full view of Haruhi, who sees up close as his expression morphs. He's eyes regain their light and start to bulging; his skin loses color; his mouth falls open.

"Oh my God…"

He stares at something that only he can see. Haruhi looks at the equally baffled Hikaru. He shakes his head at her. Whatever twin telepathy he might share with Kaoru is failing him right now. Haruhi hears someone coming, and sees a long, dark shadow looming over them, and she turns around.

And knows exactly what has Kaoru struck dumb.

"Mori-senpai…"

He stops in front of them, tall and broad as he's ever been. With all of them kneeling, he has to look all the way down to see them, while they have to crane their necks up. He doesn't look much different beyond the obligatory ten years of aging. There are bags under his eyes like he's short on sleep, and his hands- level with Haruhi's face- are covered in dirt and calluses that remind her of her own.

"It's you," he says. His voice is as deep as she remembers. It's like receiving a bear hug, hearing it again.

Haruhi finds herself grinning and she can't stop.

The twins are in a similar, if more exuberant state.

"MORI-SENPAI!"

As one, they jump to their feet and wrap their arms around his waist. Mori-senpai isn't expecting it and jumps back, sending them spinning. They don't mind, they just hold on tighter.

"MORI-SENPAI! MORI-SENPAI!"

"Come on, guys!" Haruhi follows off to the side, half reaching to pull the both of them off. "You're going to hurt him."

"I'm fine," Mori says. He stops moving stands completely still.

Hikaru and Kaoru slowly fall off of him and onto the ground, face first. They lay there for a few seconds, during which time Mori-senpai places a hand on Haruhi's head and another on her shoulder.

"I'm so glad you're all alright," he says softly.

His eyes flick away a little, at Hikaru and Kaoru as they pick themselves up. Haruhi sees Mori-senpai wince. He must have just noticed Hikaru's scars. If he did, he isn't saying a word. He goes and does the same thing to each twin in turn, and he doesn't linger with either one of them.

Following the initial shock and tears and hugs, the reunion with Mori-senpai goes a lot like Haruhi's with the twins. They walk the single street up and down while Mori moves one heavy thing after another. He hasn't spoken again, but Haruhi picks up from the random snippets of conversations going on around them that it's somebody important's birthday today and they're getting ready to celebrate. Haruhi feels a hint of sadness. Birthdays have been pretty much ignored in The Building. They only pay attention to the children's, and usually they don't even have gifts to give. The birthday girl is supposedly an elderly woman and the settlement's unofficial doctor, so she supposes it makes sense that they'd want to honor her special day.

"So Mori-senpai, this is were you're living now?" she asks.

Mori, who is carrying now empty boxes away from an old church (several people are fishing through the contents of said boxes), doesn't answer.

"Are you just passing through, like us?"

He doesn't answer.

Haruhi is reminded that Mori-senpai was never exactly a motor mouth and that she shouldn't be that surprised by his being tight-lipped. There is something very big bothering her though. She glances at Hikaru and Kaoru, who look just as lost as she does, and just as afraid to come out and ask.

They follow him to an old shack at the edge of the settlement. It's old, but in good shape; the windows are fully intact. Inside is a mess of more boxes, old car parts, piles of dead leaves and broken sporting equipment. There is only a tiny spot clear for walking, and it's nothing for someone as tall as Mori. He doesn't even walk it, just throws the boxes into a corner and closes the door right as they crash into another pile of junk.

He walks back to the street with everyone trailing after him. He never slows down, leaving them to almost run in order to keep up with his long strides. Haruhi expects him to go for another pile to carry somewhere, but instead, Mori makes a right turn to an empty picnic table that looks like it's just been set up. He sits down, the wood creaks underneath him. Haruhi and the twins sit on either side of him, making an ever loud and more high pitched noise.

Mori leans forwards, hands clasped out in front of him. His face is pensive. Haruhi's fingers scratch against the wood. She sees Hikaru and Kaoru's questioning gazes and doesn't need to ask, she just needs to nod her head. There is no more beating around the bush. She pulls out the flier.

"Mori-senpai," she begins weakly. The filer is bunched up in her hand. She makes a quick effort to unfold and smooth it out while Mori looks over her shoulder with only the most mild interest. She gets it to a mostly legible form and hands it to him fast, before she loses the nerve. "We found this hung up in a town we passed a couple of days ago."

Mori reads the flier silently. His three friends watch him closely, waiting with baited breath for him to speak or stand up or make any sort of reaction at all. He does nothing. Nothing but let the flier fall to the ground and get picked up by the wind. It's not very strong today, doing little more than blow it in circles at their feet. No one tries to pick it up.

"Mori-senpai, we're not sure, but we think this is Hunny-senpai," Kaoru says.

Mori remains silent.

"We're trying to find him," Hikaru goes on. He doesn't sound very sure of himself, but Haruhi doubts any of them would with how Mori-senpai is acting. "We came here because we thought whoever's holding him might have come through here. And now we have another idea about where they might be, so…"

Mori sits up. Hikaru immediately stops talking as the three of them unconsciously lean forward. Mori is staring off into space, same as before, but his eyes are clearer now, more alert. He reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out two pieces of paper. Haruhi doesn't understand until he flashes the one on top, and she sees Mori's face, ten years younger, smiling at the camera. On his back is a small blond boy holding a bunny rabbit, whose grin takes up his entire face. Something rises up in Haruhi's throat.

_Hunny-senpai…_

"It's been six years," Mori says, so quietly, it doesn't even sound like his voice. "I lost him… we were attacked while traversing the forests. Normally, we could've taken them easily, but I had developed a fever from the cold, and there were more than what we were used to… I blacked out, and when I came to, I was alone in a brush."

He suddenly looks even older.

"I've been searching all this time, and I've never found him."

He folds up the pictures and puts them away. Then he laces his fingers again and goes back to staring at nothing. Haruhi scoots closer, placing a hand on his leg. His eyes flick to her.

"Mori-senpai… we really do think this is him. We're going to find him. Will you come with us?"

He looks at her. Then he looks at Hikaru and Kaoru. Then he look out again and appears to be deliberating. Why he would need to, Haruhi doesn't know. She would've thought he'd say yes right away, but it occurs to her that there might be more to the story than he's letting on, and that there have always been aspects to his and Hunny-senpai's bond that cannot be understood. One small, horribly pessimistic part of her rears it's ugly head for a brief, shining moment and makes her think he'll say no.

And it takes more time, but a ghost of a smile forms.

"Of course, I will."

Haruhi lets out a breath. It sounds loud and layered to her ears, and she realizes she wasn't the only one holding it in. Hikaru and Kaoru are so happy, they look ready to pounce on Mori again. As if sensing this, Mori stands up and away from them. They seem more than a little disappointed.

Haruhi ignores them, getting up and following her former upperclassmen.

"We can leave tonight, if you want," she says.

Mori stops and slumps over for a second before standing up tall again.

"I can't," he says.

Haruhi's smile vanishes.

"I can't leave tonight, I mean," he elaborates quickly. "I want to… I want to, but I can't. I made a commitment to help out here today. I can't break it."

'Hunny-senpai wouldn't want it,' is what Haruhi sees between the lines. She could very well be wrong, but for now, that's the reasoning she's sticking with. She doesn't feel too comfortable asking outright.

Hikaru and Kaoru don't seem any more thrilled about it than she is, but like her, they aren't going to argue. Quite the opposite, in fact.

"We'll help out too, I guess," Hikaru says, and Kaoru agrees with him.

"Better than sitting around and doing nothing until it's time to sleep."

Mori just nods his head. Haruhi gets the distinct feeling that his moment of uncharacteristic talkativeness has come to an end.

He waves to a man a woman down the street, who appear to be arguing over some flowers in an old, cracked vase. Haruhi recognizes the man as the one they'd tried to get directions from before. The woman, she assumes to be his wife. They are both well kept, for their conditions. The woman's floral print dress is relatively unstained and lacking in holes. It looks like something her Dad might wear on a casual day out during the Spring or Summer. The couple meets them in the center, by that old church building. They exchange pleasantries with Mori, who speaks only long enough to introduce Haruhi, Hikaru and Kaoru to them. The couple happily greets them with a bow and gives their names as Keiko and Yosuke.

"I suppose you three found your way here for a reason," Yosuke says. "Most of us can only dream of finding our old friends and loved ones again."

Once chit-chat is over, the three of them are put to work. Hikaru is sent to help scavenge through the old junk Mori found; Kaoru goes inside the main building to help clean up. Haruhi is led away by Keiko, and brought to an elderly woman who is arguing with a man holding a colorful piece of tarp with an unfinished 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY' message written on it in chalk. She's saying something about the color orange, but Haruhi doesn't hear much of the fight when Keiko pulls her aside.

"That's my mother. She's the one we're throwing the party for," she says. "I'd like you to please keep her busy until tonight. She's a bit nosy when it comes to things like this, and I'd like to have at least a few surprises for her."

Keiko leaves her with those words and a grateful smile and pat on the shoulder before running off to handle something else. Haruhi thinks for a moment about calling her back and asking what, exactly, is going to keep this woman busy. From the looks of her, she's not that stereotypical old lady who is happy with just a cup of tea and a game of shuffleboard. Haruhi shrugs and turns to face her 'charge,' but is met by a man standing right in her path, covering her view of anything but him.

"Mori-senpai, what is it?" she says, looking up into his eyes.

Wordlessly, Mori takes out the photo from before. He puts away the one on top that he showed them before and hands her the second one. Haruhi takes it, and her breath catches when she looks at the image. Seven smiling faces stare back at her, one of them her own. She can see Hikaru and Kaoru on one side, Hunny-senpai and Mori-senpai on the other, Kyoya-senpai is in the middle. And in front of them all is her and Tamaki-senpai. If she looks close enough, she could even see the place where their hands almost touched. Her heart skips a beat, and then it starts to hurt. And then she wants to cry.

"This is the day we went to the carnival," she says as it finally comes to her. "I lost my copy when…"

She can't finish.

Mori nods. "I've held on to it. I thought you might like to have it now."

Haruhi looks at the photo, knowing that she can't keep it, that she should give it back to him. The day they had it taken, Kyoya had paid extra to get more than the usual two copies. He'd wanted one for each of them, though he never said as much. This was Mori's copy, had must have helped him on those many lonely nights.

Thing is, Haruhi can't give it back either. She's more selfish than she realized, it seems. Half of these faces, she hasn't seen in years, and all of them she once believed she never would again. Whatever happens in the coming days, she can't let them go now that she has them again. Her fingers that hold the photo up can never be pried open.

"Thank you, Mori-senpai."

**  
She walks away from him, and tells herself it's so she can get to work and not because she's afraid he'll change his mind.

The old woman's name is Rihoko, as she reveals to Haruhi over an hour into their long and tedious tour of the infirmary she's set up inside an old community center. There is no high tech gadgetry (none that works, anyway), but there are ten patients taking up half of the twenty beds in various stages of illness and injury. Rihoko insists that Haruhi meet them all.

The first man is 72 year old Rensuke Takahama, in with a simple cold bug. He doesn't have to be here, but he doesn't want his grandkids to get sick too. From the longing looks he gives Rihoko when her back is turned, Haruhi suspects there's more too it than that.

The second man is 22 year old Akira Kafugi, who has a sprained wrist. He looks at Haruhi the way Rensuke looks at Rihoko, but it doesn't bother her much, especially after he starts talking about what a cute name Haruhi is for 'such a cute young man.'

The first woman is 54 year old Sugumi Ororo, a woman who frequently suffers back and joint pain. The lack of painkillers is hard on her, and she takes to alcohol to numb the pain. Haruhi doesn't know how to take the apparent lack of shortage in that.

In goes on from there, and Haruhi begins to tune out. When introductions are down, Rihoko declares it time to strip and re-dress the empty beds with newly washed sheets. Haruhi is on bed number three when Rihoko offers to let her have a five minute break. Haruhi thanks her and goes to sit in a chair in the corner of the room. She watches Rihoko go to take Rensuke's temperature and politely ignore another bout of compliments from the man.

"I'm sorry, Rensuke-san. You're sweet, but… well, you're just too old for me."

Haruhi doesn't see Rensuke's response, but dimly catches a choked gasp of pain. She isn't focusing on the real world right now, but in the one captured permanently on film that reminds her of a much happier time. She loses track of time staring at the photo, remembering Tamaki-senpai's crazy antics and Kyoya-senpai's miserly ways and Hunny-senpai's endless energy and Mori-senpai's stoicism and Hikaru and Kaoru's jokes…

She comes back to reality when clacking heels resonate behind her.

"Breaks over, Hon, time to work."

Haruhi gets to her feet, leaving the photo on the table for a moment so she can straighten herself out.

"Yeah, I know," she says. "Sorry about that, I just lost track of time."

Rihoko smirks and looks at her watch. "It has been five minutes on the dot since I let you go on break. You haven't wasted any time, Dear, except for that which we're using to have this conversation."

Haruhi nods, lightly embarrassed.

She starts walking to the fourth bed in a row and stops short. It just hit her that she let the photo behind. She whirls around, and almost shrieks out loud when she sees it is no longer where she left it. Then her eyes travel up and it is in Rihoko's hand. She looks at it thoughtfully, like it's one of her patients.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Haruhi says, running back. "That's mine, I didn't mean to-"

Rihoko stops her with a hand, and never looks up from the photograph. Haruhi is frozen in mid-air, with no idea why Rihoko is so interested in the photograph that she won't just give it back. Is this some kind of policy she has about random volunteers who take too long on breaks?

She looks up suddenly, and Haruhi jumps.

"You know, it's funny," she says, a smile very slowly crawling across her aged features. "I never said anything because I wasn't sure, but I always thought there was something familiar about you."

Haruhi blinks. "What do you mean?"

Rihoko's smile becomes a grin.

"You must have made copies of this," she nods at the photo in her hand. "Because I distinctly recall the first time I saw it, back when that nice young man passed through."

"Young man?" Haruhi repeats. She's starting to feel that swelling in her chest again. "What young man? I mean… can you describe him?"

"Of course," Rihoko says like the question offends her. "I never forget a face, especially one as handsome as his. Oh, if only I were a younger girl…"

Rihoko stares off into space like she's star struck, while Haruhi is fast losing her patience.

"Anyway," Rihoko says when she's done. "He was tall and in good shape, dressed nicely for traveler. He was blond at had the bluest eyes I've ever seen. Actually, they may have been more violet, now that I think about it…"

She goes off on a tangent, muttering to herself about eye colors and how purple eyes could even be a genetic possibility, but Haruhi hasn't been listening since the word 'blond.' Now she's pretty sure all outside noise as been muted, and all she can hear is a voice in her head that is still as loud and clear as the last time she heard it. Whether he be talking or laughing or crying, she could hear it.

"Tamaki…"

Rihoko looks up.

"Was that his name? I don't think he ever told me…"

"That was his name," she says firmly. "He was… he's a good friend of mine and I'd really like to find him. When did you say he was here again?"

"About five or six years ago," Rihoko affirms. "He wandered through the way you did, funnily enough. Got lost looking for a town to stock up in. We were still getting things off the ground and didn't have much for him. In fact, the only reason I ever met him at all was because he was brought to me for treatment!"

"Treatment?" Haruhi breathes in a daze.

At this, Rihoko looks solemn and shakes her head. "Oh yes, the poor dear. There were these two hooligans hanging around at the time. They attacked him in the morning and tried to rob him. He didn't have anything, or so he told them, and they started this huge scuffle. Two against one! The nerve some people have, I swear… Well regardless, your friend was brought to me all banged up and bruised. A swollen eye here, a cut on the lip there. Took a week before he was well enough to move, and then he was gone! I wanted him to stay longer and get some more rest, but he was insistent that he'd stayed long enough and that he couldn't afford to settle down in one place for too long. Not until he found what he was looking for."

"And what was he looking for?" Haruhi asks. This whole story is throwing her emotions through the ringer. She's gone from hopeful to scared to angry to sad to confused. Trust Tamaki to mess with her mind like that, even if indirectly.

Rihoko shrugs. "He never said. All he ever did when he wasn't talking to me or sleeping was stare at a photograph. This one, in fact."

She holds the photo out to Haruhi, who doesn't move. She wait's a few second to see if Rihoko snatches it away, and when she doesn't, Haruhi tentatively takes it and holds it close to her chest.

"So that's the last time you saw him," she says to confirm. "He left when he was well again."

"Well enough, I said," Rihoko answers. She places her hands on her hips like a mother talking about her rowdy children. "I don't know what that man was looking for that was so important, he'd risk his health over it. I guess I never will."

Rihoko turns on a heel and goes to the next bed on her side of the room. Haruhi's next bed is within her line of sight, but she couldn't care less about it right now. Her legs are starting to ache from the desire to just run. In her throat building either a scream or a million different words that form a story she has to tell right now. She sends Rihoko and apologetic look that the old woman doesn't catch with her back turned, and then she's off.

"I'm sorry, Rihoko-san," she calls back to her. "I'll be back, I just need to speak to my friends for a minute. It's extremely important."

She runs out of the hall and around the corner without waiting for an answer.

**  
Rihoko watches Haruhi go, bewildered and curious. Her initial impression of the young woman had been that she was quiet and reserved and rarely, if ever, got emotional about anything. Either this was a moment that fell into the 'rarely' category, or Rihoko was just completely wrong about her. Rihoko was never wrong about anyone.

She sighs and shakes her head.

"She's an oddity, that one," she thinks aloud.

From his bed across the room, where he'd been watching Haruhi go with great interest, Akira suddenly looks like he just sucked on a lemon.

"Wait, that was a woman?" he asks incredulously. "Well, just my luck…"

"Oh stop it, Kafugi. And drink your water," Rihoko snaps patronizingly.

While he mumbles childishly into his glass, Kensuke is watching Rihoko intently. It isn't a flirtatious gaze like it usually is, and that is what clues Rihoko in that this might be something she wants to ask about. She is beaten to the punch when Kensuke, always one to want the first word, speaks in his loud, droning tone for all the world to hear.

"I'm surprised, Hoko-chan." He uses that little silly little nickname he has for her even when he's upset about something. "You're a great many things, but I'd never have taken you for a liar."

Rihoko indignantly sniffs at him. "Liar? And when, exactly, have I told a lie today?"

"You may not have said a falsehood, if that's what you think, but you didn't tell that girl the whole story and you know it. An omission is still a lie, Hoko-chan."

Rihoko rolls her eyes.

"Oh, that's what you mean," she says. "Kensuke, I've told you again and again, that man was attacked first, anything he did-"

"You still should have told her," Kensuke interrupts. "I know, odds are, her friend is dead by now, but if he's still alive, and she somehow manages to find him, she has to know what she's in for. You told her all about with those two knuckleheads did to him. I didn't hear a peep out of you about what he did to them."

"Self defense, Kensuke!" Rihoko is speaking loud enough now that she wakes a few sleeping patients. "Self. Defense. They attacked first, he retaliated. He just happened to be more of a match than those boys realized."

Kensuke gives a mocking laugh that Rihoko appreciates even less than everything he said before it.

"I remember everything that happened that day, Hoko-chan, and I know you do too. Really, what's a black eye to a broken leg? Or a cut lip to five teeth being knocked out. I wouldn't care except I saw what was in that man's eyes that day. There was something wrong there. Maybe there wasn't when little miss Haruhi there knew him, but this world isn't the one young people like her and her friend came from. It's a small step above pure hell out there, and that changes people. Sometimes, not for the better."

Kensuke lays back down and rolls over to his side, closing his eyes tight. He likes to have the last word even more than he likes to have the first word. There's no point in trying to argue with him once he's decided it's over. The stubborn old goat. Rihoko narrows her eyes at his 'sleeping' form. He lets out an exaggerated snore as if to figuratively shove her off. Rihoko legs it go with another sigh and another shake of her head, and then goes back to stripping the beds in the far corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting to the real meat of the story now. Only a few more chapters until Chapter 11 which, as I've stated, is the chapter I've been looking most forward to writing. It's gonna be GOOD!
> 
> Anyway, enter Mori-senpai! That's almost more than half the club back together now. Will they find Hunny-senpai now that Mori is on board? And what significance does Kensuke and Rihoko's conversation have? Will the Ouran Host Club ever be completely reunited?
> 
> All these questions and more... will NOT be answered in the next chapter, because it will be an interlude all about Kyoya.
> 
> Hooray!


	8. Parallel

Kyoya stops in the middle of the forest, in a space where the trees look just like the ones he just passed, to catch his breath. He's gotten used to a lot of running over the years, but today, exhaustion is taking it's toll. The worst part is that he really has no one to blame but himself. Sure, he's being chased by a person with every intent to kill him if he's caught, but it probably wouldn't have happened if he had just kept his mouth shut when he had the chance. Really, he should have known what that man first challenged him to a drinking contest that he wasn't someone one just said 'no' to. He had a chip on his shoulder, a horribly cocky and self-obsessed attitude that deluded him into thinking anyone who refused his challenge only did so because they were so terrified of losing to him. Kyoya had responded to that by asking how the man knew they just didn't want to be bothered, and then had to duck a chair thrown at his head. From there, he'd been running, and he'd been wishing that he'd gotten a little more sleep the night before so that maybe he would have thought of a better way to get the man away from him. Kyoya was a business man at heart and he knew there were times when taking calculated risks was a smart move. This was not one of those times.

He listens carefully, his sharp ears picking up chirping crickets and the occasional bird singing, but no other footsteps and no voices. He didn't relax just yet, though. His pursuers could very well still be on his tail. Just because he hadn't heard time coming yet didn't mean much.

Kyoya waits at the tree for a while longer, counting the seconds in his head both to keep time and to calm himself. He forces more air into his lungs than he really needs, all in an effort to catch his breath now rather than later. Later was not an option. Once he's done with that and checked all three of his guns for ammo and the safety lock off, he starts sprinting again. His feet pound on the dirt and the fallen leaves there, breaking them with sounds that are harsh to his ears. If only it were Spring, this would be much easier.

He keeps running for as long as he can until he can't anymore. When he stops next, even gasping for air is difficult, and his chest and throat hurt like hell. He listens again, and hears a single crack of a twig snapping. He stills. His every sense is fine tuned now to that spot in the distance. He doesn't hear it again, but he does he the low thumping of shoes on dirt. Someone is coming, and they're coming fast.

His hands go for the rifle, fingers wrapping around the smooth and cool metal when a figure jumps out. Kyoya immediately relaxes. The newcomer is short in stature, much shorter than his pursuer. He is also slim and lacks significant muscle mass, another thing that sets him apart from the huge and bulky man. He is alone and there is no other sounds in the distance. Kyoya is now aware of two things. The first is that he has most likely succeeded in losing that man and his group of thugs. The second is that he may have a new problem to face depending on who this is.

The shadow chuckles and shakes it's head condescendingly as it approaches. Kyoya's lips go tight with anger. Nobody looks or talks down to him ever. Were he a lesser man, he'd have shot the newcomer the second that laugh left his throat. Then the man steps into the light, and suddenly Kyoya is more inclined to do just that.

"Boy, you've gotten yourself into some trouble, haven't you Kyo?"

The man grins wide. His teeth are straight, but yellowed, and horrific to look at. The rest of him isn't that easy on the eyes either. He is pale and sickly looking, with small brown eyes, a stubby nose, and perpetually red cheeks. His body is completely hairless from head to toe. He once claimed it was from a childhood illness, and Kyoya never cared to get the full story. He's dressed in black, as is most practical when travel the woods at night, but his clothes are ill fitted and hang out him like he's an emaciated chemo patient. Kyoya saw many of those when he used to go and see his father at work. They were usually nice enough to speak to and confident that their condition would improve. Even those who weren't were not nearly as unpleasant as him.

The man blinks his tiny eyes many times, more times than anyone should need to. It's a strange and annoying habit of his. He gestures with his head at the path Kyoya's been walking and places his hands on his hips.

"I saw that guy chasing you. That Pillsbury Doughboy from Hell. What'd you do to him?"

"Nothing, Kitano-san," Kyoya answers as he walks the circumference of the area, listening for more arrivals. "He has a short temper and took offense to a simple comment of mine, nothing more."

Kitano snorts, and it sounds almost exactly like that of a pig. "Well! I think someone needs to learn to choose his battles a little more carefully. You should've just walked away."

"That's what I was trying to do," Kyoya mutters. "And what I'm _still_ trying to do."

He makes another circle around. Kitano is still grinning like a fool when Kyoya makes the return trip, and then stops him with a hand when he's close enough to him.

"You're not getting anywhere this way," he says. He nods at the dark expanse of trees that he came from. "I've got a place over there you can hide at until he's gone."

His hand goes to wrap around Kyoya's wrist, as if to pull him along back to whatever hovel he's chosen to hole up in. Kyoya has known Kitano for close to a year. The man is not as weak as his appearance suggests, or as cowardly as Kyoya would've liked. Normally, the assault rifle alone was enough to drive unsavory folks far away from him, but Kitano was different. He went back to Kyoya again and again, somehow finding him no matter how deep into the forest he went. Kyoya had been sticking to the same general area all this time, but recent events necessitate moving to someplace new. He just hopes Kitano won't somehow find him again, then Kyoya might just have to cross the ocean into whatever was left of China to be rid of him.

Right now, though, he has to admit, spending one night dealing with Kitano's relentless chatter is preferable to some ridiculous gun and fist fight. He'll just leave at daybreak, regardless of what Kitano thinks, or if he's actually conscious at the time.

He doesn't let Kitano touch him, but he walks into the part of the forest indicated to him, and Kitano is quick to get back in front of him and take the lead.

"It's right this way, my friend!" he says cheerfully.

Kyoya has a bad taste in his mouth.

Amazingly enough, Kitano's temporary home of the week is not a dirty cave hidden away in a lonely crevice somewhere. Instead, it's a ramshackle house covered in chipping grey paint and decaying plaster; not much of an improvement. The windows are either smashed out or so covered in dirt that they are no longer transparent and blend in with the walls. They are walking towards the back of the house, and there's some broken cellar doors laying on the grass. One appears to have been snapped right in half. The cellar itself can't be seen, but Kyoya doesn't image it looks any better. They haven't even gone inside yet, and that fight is already looking more and more appealing.

Kitano whistles. "Home, sweet home. Am I right?"

Kyoya doesn't know what to say to that. Well, actually he can think of a couple of things, but he's not in the mood.

"So when did you first find this… dwelling?" he asks instead.

Kitano snorts. "Dwelling? That's fancy… yeah, I found it about a week ago. Been squatting for a while, 'll probably move on soon. It's good for you tonight that I have though, am I right or am I right?"

"You are right," Kyoya answers tiredly.

Kitano laughs and claps Kyoya on the shoulder, ignorant of the way Kyoya winces and then glares at him.

"Just so you know, there is no electricity or running water, so I wouldn't go in the bathroom if I were you. In fact, stay away from the kitchen too. I have some candles on me, but I'm fresh out of matches, so we're going to have to wait for the sun, unfortunately. Shouldn't be too bad. I just can't believe we bumped into each other like this, it must be fate. We're gonna have a lot to catch up on tonight, you and I."

"I think I may just go to sleep early," Kyoya says evenly. He slows a little to make himself look more tired. He really is tired, and that only helps.

Kitano frowns. "Well, that's a buzzkill. One of these days, I'm going to have to take you out for some fun. You ever tried shooting at bird with that thing? You know, target practice and all that."

"It's occurred to me."

"What about a squirrel? They're quick little bastards for sure. Bet they'd provide you a challenge," Kitano trails off, and goes quietly for a few seconds before turning to Kyoya with wide, crazed eyes. "Or maybe you're looking to move on to bigger game. Like people."

Kyoya stops. He meets Kitano's eyes for a second while calculating all the spaces in the trees that he can run through if need be. Then Kitano bursts out laughing.

"Ah, man, you've gotta see your face right now, Kyo. I really had you there."

Kitano slaps his knees while Kyoya looks on. His eyes have narrowed into slits, and he's not sure if it's more from Kitano's sick attempt at humor or that fact that the idiot just called him 'Kyo' again. He's told Kitano countless times that he won't answer to nicknames, especially not that one. Kitano is not a good listener, and he's definitely not as funny as he thinks he is. He's just proved that without a shadow of a doubt.

"Haha… okay, enough horseplay. I think the temperature may be dropping. You feel that?"

Kyoya said nothing, but had to admit, he was beginning to feel a chill. This one definitely didn't come from him, and it had been happening a lot recently with the dawning of Fall and Winter. He was still walking around in his sleeveless shirt from Summer. He was going to have to get a good coat off of someone, and soon.

While Kyoya was nothing this in his mind, their walk to the decrepit shack had come to an end. They walk up the rickety porch to a dull blue door that was in fair shape compared to the house framing it. Kyoya casts a glance at the small, square shaped window right next to it, but it was completely boarded up. At one time, this was probably a very warm and quaint cabin that either a sweet old lady or a youthful and idealistic artist must have inhabited. Kyoya, with his wealthy, high class sensibilities, would've scoffed at the idea of staying in such a place. A decade of technical poverty and homelessness later, and he's still ready to turn up his nose.

Kitano walks in front of him to the door, and knocks three times.

That's the first red flag in Kyoya's mind.

There is shuffling on the other side, like someone is moving papers around in a rushed attempt at straightening up before going to the door. Kyoya thinks he hears whispering, which is confirmed when another person loudly shushes the first. Kyoya stares daggers at Kitano's back.

"You didn't tell me you had roommates."

Kitano waves it off. "Like I said, it's just a temporary thing. They won't bother you."

The doorknob turns at an aching pace. Whoever this is is taking their time. Then it opens with a creak that is soft compared to that of the stairs, but rings louder in Kyoya's ears. The man in the door frame is must shorter than him, plain in face, but nowhere close to ugly. He is balding, wisps of brown hair are styled in a comb over that is no more convincing than anyone else's. He doesn't look too happy to see Kitano has brought a visitor. He glares heatedly at Kyoya, who answers with a polite smile. That, he's come to find, does a far better job at getting someone's goat than stooping to their petty level. The man grumbles something likely very impolite and moves aside. Kyoya follows Kitano in without hesitating, if only so he keeps up an aloof and unconcerned air.

The door slams shut the second Kyoya is inside, and then he hears a decisive click. The door is locked.

That's the second red flag.

The room is pitch black, and he can hear more whispering. This time, the words are clear.

"Turn on the light."

"Oh, I forgot."

More shuffling.

"Dumbass…"

A match is struck. Kyoya scrunches an eye that isn't yet adjusted to bright light. The one holding the match now lights a lantern with it, and the tiny glow grows to fill the room. It isn't nearly as strong as an electric light, and most of the room is still dim. Of the men on the couch, only the one in the middle can be seen with relative clearness, and Kyoya's nearsightedness doesn't help.

He sees three other men in the room besides Kitano and the one who answered the door. They are sitting in a row on a couch with faded red cushions and stuffing coming out of one side. Only the one directly in front of the lantern can be clearly seen. He is a tall and well built man with handsome features who smiles warmly at Kyoya and nods his head in greeting. Kyoya returns the nod, but not the smile. He isn't even close to convinced that it is genuine.

Kitano slaps him on the shoulder again.

"Sit on down, Kyo. We'll talk."

He jumps onto the couch beside the man one the very end, whose face is muted by darkness and who is slumps over as if dead. Kyoya might've thought he really was if he hadn't grunted when Kitano shoved him to make room. The man who answered the door sits at the opposite end, not on the couch, but rather on a chair right beside it. They are all facing a second chair, which is both empty and directly in front of the lantern.

Kyoya is on Red Alert.

"Kyo," Kitano says, in a lower voice that is unlike him. "Please. Sit down."

The man in the middle silently motions at the chair. Kyoya discreetly runs fingers along the hand guns at his side. They haven't disappeared and he know them to be fully loaded at ready at a moment's notice. He takes a backwards glance at the bolted door, and then sits down.

Kitano grins.

"So," he says, kicking his feet back and bringing his arms up. An elbow knocks into the despondent man, who gives a more pitiful moan of pain. "Now that everyone is here and accounted for, let's talk."

All five men sat up straighter in their seats. Even the man beside Kitano, if only because he's being forced up.

"I've got a hell of a story for you, Kyo, my friend," Kitano goes on, rubbing his hands together. "So it started about a week ago. I don't know if you remember, but the last time we talked, I mentioned that I was looking into some big stuff. I'd met this guy with a real interesting proposition. Now, I'm not going to tell you straight out, because that ruins the fun-"

The man in the middle glances sideways at Kitano, his lips pursed.

"-So I got in with this guy, and he's a hell of a thing, I gotta say. He's been getting together all the thieves and bandits and crooks he can find. He sends out scouts to find them and then when they come, he gives them whole twenty questions routine- it's like being on a job interview, I swear- and if you're in, you get to be part of this whole little army that he's assembling. And I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw it, that was enough to make me think this guy is hardcore. But it get's better, much better."

Kitano leans in. Closer to the fire, Kyoya can see his grin in place.

"You want to know why he's getting all these guys together?"

 _'No, I'd rather leave, thank you,'_ Kyoya thinks. In reality, he doesn't give any sort of answer, affirmative or otherwise, because the next moment, he's beaten to the punch.

"The man we're working for is called Ryuuga. We're looking for the one called Kaito," the man in the middle says. His voice is deep, much deeper than his looks would imply. "He's taking anyone with skills in combat or intelligence to find him and bring him down. Kitano recommended you to us, Mr. Kyo. We'd like to invite you to be part of our cause."

"Hey, hey, hey!" Kitano snaps. He swats at the middle man's head, but is too far away to reach more than his hair. The middle man is unfazed. "You're interrupting me, Icano. Remember what He said? Kyo's my friend and I tell the story. You left out the best part anyway."

Kitano finishes scold his 'colleague', and then looks apologetically at Kyoya.

"I'm sorry about Icano, he's just over-excited. Going after living legends does that to people, you know?"

"I can't really relate…"

"Not yet," Kitano says.

He nods at the man in between Icano and the surly man who let them in. Kyoya can make out a chubby, possibly middle-aged body and a hairline that is almost as far receded as the man next to him. He has been silent this whole time, and yet Kyoya doesn't need a clear look at his eyes to know that they are on him. It's all in his posture. He's paying very close attention.

"This guy right here? We call him Picasso. He won't tell us his real name, don't ask me why."

'Picasso' doesn't move.

"He used to be one of those police sketch artist guys. You know, the ones who draw suspects when they don't have pictures and crap? That's Picasso here… hey, Picasso, don't be rude. We're going to be working with Kyo soon. Say hi!"

Picasso slowly turns his head, and something glints near where his eyes should be. He's wearing glasses. Thick ones too, probably. Kyoya's single old lens hangs around his neck and inside his shirt. He doesn't feel like he can reach for it without setting off at least one of the men before him. He struggles to make out Picasso's hands, which are the only part of him close enough for the light to hit. He has them bunched together, his fingers are pale from the tightness. Kyoya wonders if Picasso wants to be here anymore than he does.

"Hello," he says to the man, if only to seem more cooperative to the rest of them. Unfortunately, Kyoya is not the type to waste time trying to comfort complete strangers. If they throw their lot in with the wrong people, they have no one to blame but themselves.

Kitano waves dismissively at Picasso. Picasso's fingers dig into his hands.

"Don't worry about him, he's tired. He was up all night with Icano here. You'll never guess what they were doing?"

"Do I dare?" Kyoya asks.

Icano glares at Kitano again, harder this time. It was juvenile, but Kyoya might've have laughed a little if he didn't feel the humor of the situation being sucked out little by little with every word spoken. By Kitano or otherwise.

"They were drawing a picture of Kaito," Kitano says excitedly. "Good guess, though. No, Icano here, believe it or not, has seen Kaito in person! Isn't that the coolest thing?"

Kyoya takes a moment to digest that. Icano is staring him down, harder than he already has been. Kyoya isn't cowed as hasn't been from the start. Maybe that's why Icano is looking angrier, and it's not just the sound of Kitano's voice that bothers him.

 _'Haven't heard much from you,'_ he thinks.

"You've seen Kaito," he says slowly, enunciating every word the way he's seen psychologists do. "The same Kaito from the stories."

Icano gives a single, loud, humorless laugh that rings in the relatively silent atmosphere. Kyoya definitely doesn't jump.

"You mean the one who can become a giant and has the strength of twenty men? Yes, I've heard them all. For three years now, wherever I go, people are telling them. Those same, insipid little fables. That's not the story, not the real one."

Icano gets to his feet. He walks around the table on which the lantern sits, covering it's light with his body as he stands before Kyoya. He doesn't bear down on him, or appear overtly threatening, but Kyoya inches for the gun on his left side, just in case.

"I've seen him with my own two eyes, it's true," Icano says. "I started the spread of those stories, the day after Kaito let me go alive. They've been distorted over time, new details added in retellings, until they were nothing but fantastical urban legends. The stuff of children's make believe."

He gets down on his knees, looks Kyoya right in the eye. His are bloodshot and have the most awful bags underneath.

"I can assure you, friend, Kaito is real. He is real, but he is no Godlike creature, not at all. He's a man like you and me. He can bleed, and he can die. The only thing he can't do is feel."

With those cryptic words, Icano falls silent. He gets to his feet and walks into the darkness. Kyoya follows with his eyes as far as he can, and from there he only has Icano's footsteps to go by. They become louder and softer at a regular pace, and they never stop, even when Kitano starts to loudly fidget with something in his breast pocket. He mutters something about Icano 'hurrying it up already.' No one acknowledges him.

"Icano-san, can you please elaborate?" Kyoya asks after a beat.

He hears a chuckle, and Icano's steps slow a tad.

"You want to know what happened that night? Well, forgive me if I'm not eager to relive it. I can tell you this: Kaito is a man and nothing more, but on that night, when I looked into his eyes, I could swear he was a monster. I'd never seen anyone so cold, so merciless. He killed my friends that night, and I'll never forget his face when they were begging him mercy. He slaughtered them… I want him to pay for it."

At this point, Kitano can no longer stand to keep quiet. The growing tension in the room completely breaks when he jumps out of his sheet and whips a folded piece of white paper out of the pocket he'd been fingering.

"And this is the drawing of Kaito that Picasso drew. Straight from Icano's memory! Oh, you should've seen Ryuuga's face when we showed it to him. I seriously thought he was going to wet himself, he was so happy."

Kitano shoves the paper under Kyoya's nose, but when Kyoya tries to push his hand away, Kitano backs off. He holds the paper possessively to him when he sits back down and crosses his legs.

"So," he says, suddenly businesslike. "Not much else to it. What do you say, Kyo, you in?"

He leans forward, holding out a hand he fully expects Kyoya to shake. The rest don't seem to share Kitano's conviction. They maintain the same cold glares they always have as far as Kyoya can see. He comes to wonder how strong a recommendation Kitano gave them. How useful did he make him out to be? And how? This may just be how they treat all new recruits, and the more Kyoya thinks about it, the more it makes sense. They are, for all intents and purposes, potential employers, and Kyoya, whether he likes it or not, is the potential employee. The idea of these man being fair judges of characters makes something akin to laughter build in Kyoya's stomach.

"This is… a very interesting goal you all have in mind," he says, and nobody moves. "I must commend your enthusiasm and determination. For something like this, those can be your most powerful tools. And I'm afraid they are not tools that I myself do not possess. Not for this."

Kitano's smile fades. Kyoya thinks it's the first time this has ever happened, and something deep inside him takes a sick satisfaction in it.

"Kyoya… buddy, you're not saying what I think you're saying, are you?"

Kyoya pushes out his chair, it scraps against the floor, but the ugly sound is welcoming. Icano is silhouetted against the wall, arms crossed and stance like that of a predator, but he's nowhere near the front door. Kyoya is sure he can unlock the door and run before anyone reaches him. If they do, well, he's the one who is armed.

"Gentlemen, it's been a pleasure meeting you and I wish you nothing but luck, but I must be going now."

He walks backwards to the door until he's halfway across the room and no one has tried to stop him. It is both reassuring and alarming, the two sides of his mind go to war over it. If Kyoya reaches out now, he is sure his fingers will brush the door knob. He is that close to being outside.

And then Kitano tsks.

"Kyoya, that's not good," he says. "That's really not good."

The lantern's light is weakening, now with only a small circle of light shining through that tells him very little except that everyone is getting to their feet. He can also feel Icano's presence much stronger than before; closer. Kyoya's mind goes into panic mode and he takes a large and abrupt step back. His hand closes around the doorknob. Icano's hand closes around his.

"You're not going anywhere," Icano says gravely.

Kyoya closes his eye.

"You see, Kyo," Kitano says as he walks over. "This guy we're working for? Ryuuga? He's all about secrecy. He is so paranoid that word of his plans is going to get out. Anyone who finds out has only two options. They join up with us, or…"

He lets it hang with nothing but a tiny chuckle. Kyoya squeezes the doorknob tight, holding on as long as he can until Icano's superior strength overcomes him. He is wrenched away from door and held in a reverse chokehold. No pressure is applied, so it seems that Icano only wants to keep him still. For now.

"What does it matter if I help you or not?" he asks. "It's not like there's anyone I can tell who would stop you. The police, the government, it's all gone. What threat am I to you?"

"That's what I said," Kitano says, shrugging. "The old Boss man insisted. He said anyone who refuses to join gets a bullet in his head. Or a knife. He's not choosy."

Someone, likely the surly man who opened the door, yanks the assault rifle from around Kyoya's neck. Kyoya momentarily can't breathe and gasps. In that time, he's been relived of his handguns as well. The surly man tosses them aside, but keeps the rifle and hefts it over his shoulder. Kyoya hears someone pick up the handguns. He's pretty sure it's Kitano.

"So I told him that you'd help us, I gave him my guarantee," Kitano says sharply. "You're forcing me to go back on my word, Kyo. And I like you, I really do. That's why I'm going to give you another chance."

Icano jabs at Kyoya's back with something sharp. Kyoya winces, thankful for the lack of light so they can't see his show of pain. The only thing worse would be to show fear.

He is walked across the room, to an area even darker than the living room. Icano marches him far from the dying flame and then turns him into another, colder room and throws him to the ground. Kyoya hit's the floor on his shoulder hard. There will probably be a bruise by morning.

"I'm going to give you until morning to think it over," Kitano's voice says from… somewhere. "I hope you'll really give some thought to what you're risking here. I'd hate to have to shoot you with your own gun."

The door slams shut, but isn't locked. Kyoya feels a degree of hope, until he hears Kitano loudly telling someone to stand and guard it. Whoever it is answers affirmatively, in a voice Kyoya doesn't recognize. He assumes it's the fifth man, the one who never said a word and was never introduced to him, and whom Kyoya had all but forgotten about until now. Kyoya rolls onto his back. His fist is clenched and he wants nothing more than to slam it as many times as he can against the wall until his fingers are beaten and bloody. If he wasn't so sure the walls had ears, he would have.

But that would be showing fear.

**  
Kyoya waits by the door all night. For hours he sits, one ear pressed lightly against the door. He has barely moved, his whole body aches. His eyes are heavy, but he will not close them. He doesn't know how long Kitano plans to give him, but he wagers that it will be no later than when the sun is high in the sky. Right now, the sky has turned from black to dark blue. It won't be long now.

He is starting to think he will never find what he's looking for. He hasn't heard a thing all night. Maybe the walls aren't as thin as he thought they were. A few hours ago, there was a thump of someone sitting down, and that was the most Kyoya had heard since Kitano and his gang left him. This whole thing may have been in vain, and he may just give in to sleep now, and wake up to a gun in his face.

And then he hears it.

After hours of waiting, it is the most wonderful sound he has ever heard.

His guard dog is snoring.

Kyoya goes for the knob. He examined it before and found smooth metal where the lock should be. It's possible there are no locks on any of the doors in this house, which explains the guard. Kyoya is slightly disappointed. It would have been so much easier if Kitano was really as stupid as his behavior implied. Only 'slightly', because while Kitano was pretty smart, he was clearly not smart enough to remember why the guards of anything always work in shifts.

He turns the knob a fraction of an inch at a time. His heart starts to beat faster, pouring anxiety all throughout his body. He has to work extra hard to keep his hand steady, but when he is rewarded with a quiet, yet resounding click, he feels peace.

He doesn't wait any longer that that. He pushes the door open, thankful that it, at least, doesn't creak. His guard is leaning on the wall beside the door. There is a knife in one hand and the other is half curled. His head lolls to one side. He is utterly dead to the world. Kyoya spares him but a glance, and then he is off. The sky is becoming lighter, but there is still no sun. Each room he passes has the door wide open, and he can just make out someone sleeping inside. The first room houses Icano. The second, Picasso. In the room directly across his, the surly man rests in an old recliner. At his feet is Kyoya's assault rifle. Kyoya zeros in on it, turns into the room with even softer steps than before. He watches the surly man for any signs that he's waking up. Kyoya doesn't know what he'll do if the man does before he can get his hands on that gun. Kyoya reaches down as far as he can. His knees are close to buckling, and then the gun is it his hands. He picks it up carefully, the strap brushes the wood carries a small rock with it. Kyoya stops. He uses a foot to gently push the pebble off and onto the floor.

When he leaves the room, the rifle is over his shoulder where it belong. Now he just needs those handguns.

He makes it out of the hallway and into the main room. Kitano is asleep on the couch, his hands under his head to form a pillow. He snores so loud, it's a miracle Kyoya never heard it from his room and mistook it for the guards. Kyoya questions, for a moment, shooting him right here and now, but that thought is brushed away as both stupid and reckless as quickly as it entered his brain. His hand guns are both on the table with the extinguished lantern. There is something white beneath one of them, but Kyoya pays no attention as he takes them both up and shoves one back into it's holster.

He moves to the door, is as close as he was last night. So close that he can hear the birds chirping outside. And then he hears another thump.

He whirls around, gun at the ready. Any one about to approach him had better think again. There is no one there. Kyoya looks around, left to right and up and down. When he looks down, he sees a mouse scampering along his feet. It stops to sniff at the air around him, then continues on it's way. Kyoya shakes his head.

_'At this rate, they won't have to kill me. I'll just have a heart attack.'_

He stealthily unlocks and opens the door a crack. He wait's a moment, then opens it a little more. It had creaked yesterday like nothing before, but today it will be as silent as a mouse, for lack of a better term.

He gives himself just enough room to slip out onto the porch. He shuts the door behind him, just as slowly as the first time. When it clicks into place, and there isn't a single sound from inside, not a yell or a scream or a knife being drawn. Kyoya hears an odd sort of roaring in his ears, and realizes now that it's his heart, which apparently never stopped pounding throughout his entire escape. Kyoya aims at the door as he walks down the porch steps. He skips the last one, that had a pretty awful creak to it too. When his feet hit the dirt, Kyoya finally does what he's been dying to do for hours now.

He runs. He runs so fast, everything around him becomes a blur, and he doesn't stop until he is absolutely exhausted from both the exertion and the lack of sleep. Then he finds a tiny enclave under a tree and hides himself inside it. He covers his body with fallen leaves and tree branches, and ignores the creepy crawling under his behind.

The last thing he sees before he closes his eyes is the sun peeking out over the horizon.

The last thought he has is that it has never been more beautiful.

Kyoya passes by a large tree that looks exactly like the last tree he passed, which had looked exactly like the tree he passed before. He would think he was lost, but he knows this path. The forest is particularly dense and anyone without a weapon of some kind was a complete and utter fool to try and cross it. Anyone with a weapon was just a fool. Kyoya didn't care so much after making the trip so many times. It wasn't fun, but it was a hell of a lot better than the alternative.

Beyond it was a small village that in all his years of traveling, he has never once seen Kitano in. The man finds him absolutely everywhere else, but never here. He's probably too scared of the forest, Kyoya thinks with a sardonic laugh. It's the perfect place for him to lay low for a while, until Kitano either forgets all about him or just gets bored with hunting him down.

Kyoya keeps walking until the most dangerous part is out of the way. He knows, because the lovely sun starts shining through the trees and warms his chilled body with her rays. Kyoya runs his hands along his bare arms. They feel like ice. He is definitely going to have to get a coat and fast.

His gun has been in his hand ever since his escape. He woke up with it still clenched in his hand and never put it away. He's never had any sort of encounter in this forest despite knowing the chances. That's why he'll never take them. He will never be caught off guard again. Not like last night.

Kyoya switches hands briefly so he can rub his other arm. Something white falls to the ground and gives him pause. Kyoya looks down and sees a tiny slip of paper at his feet. He picks it up and examines it. It is creased in places and a little damp from the sweat of his palm. Kyoya doesn't know what to make of it, and then something sparks him memory and his eyes go wide.

Didn't Kitano say something about having a drawing of Kaito?

_'So that's what he was keeping beneath my gun. Dear God, he really is a fool.'_

Kyoya rolls his eyes. He can imagine the horror Kitano must have felt when he woke up to find not only Kyoya gone, but also the drawing he had loved and obsessed over so much. Kyoya really didn't get it. Beyond the sheer insanity of going after someone who probably didn't exist based on the story of one unhinged man, how strong could his memory of one face be three years after he supposedly saw it?

Kyoya unfolds it, not sure why he's bothering to even look. Odds are, he's going to find one of two things: an ugly faced man with exaggerated 'evil' features, or a generic nobody who could be anyone you saw on the streets. It wasn't just Kitano for him anymore, all of these people, including their so-called leader, must be soft in the head to believe in such a thing.

The picture is folded several different ways. It takes time before Kyoya has made it to the half fold. He opens it fully-

And drops his handgun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we've checked in on Kyoya and he's doing... more or less okay. Where will he go now? That remains to be seen. Going back to the main storyline in the next chapter, and we may even see a certain cake loving host again. See you then!


	9. Atonement

Haruhi closes her eyes and listens to the crickets. The fire crackles, warm and gentle, several feet away as Hikaru tends to it. He's been poking at it with a stick that is charred halfway up. Then he throws it in and sits down. Kaoru and Mori-senpai are on either side of him, one warming his hands, the other staring off into the trees. Mori-senpai has been doing this for a while now, like he thinks any moment now, Hunny-senpai will run out and call his name. Haruhi gave up trying to start a conversation ages ago. Why she thought it would work, Hunny or no Hunny, is beyond her.

So once again, she is left to her thoughts. They travel along the usual, painful path. How is Dad doing? How are Renge and the kids? What about the rest of their neighbors? Fujiwa and Mariko? How could she be running around on what could very well be a wild goose chase looking for a friend she hasn't seen in years when she could be trying to get back to her very much alive- and very much needing her back- family.

For that matter, what will they do if this 'Amazing Boy Man' or whatever they call him really isn't Hunny-senpai? Will they all give up and follow her home? Will Mori-senpai even want to, or will he leave him to keep searching? If they did come back with her, would the already cramped and over-populated building be able to take another three mouths to feed?

At least, she could count on Renge and her Dad to help out if worst comes to worst.

And when Haruhi can't take it anymore, she tries to distract with more pleasant thoughts, however few and far between they may be. Of course, the happiest memories she has are also the saddest.

She is reminded yet again that half of them are still missing.

Her mouth starts moving before she can think.

"Do you guys ever wonder about Kyoya-senpai and Tamaki-senpai?"

Hikaru and Kaoru fall silent. They've been whispering to each other for the past few minutes. Haruhi has barely listened, but Mori's name may have reached her a couple of times. She hopes they aren't thinking about trying to talk to him. Unless they suddenly lost two feet in height, turned blonde, and started talking to a stuffed bunny and feeding it cake, Mori-senpai wasn't going to bat an eyelash. Now, they're just staring at her, making no indication that they're going to answer her anytime soon. Regardless, it's too late to bite her tongue.

"It's just been on my mind a lot," she says, looking down. "Ever since I found you two. And now we have Mori-senpai back, and tomorrow, we may find Hunny-senpai. I used to think you were all dead, and now, with all this-"

"You're hoping that someday, we'll all be together again," Hikaru finished the thought for her.

Haruhi hadn't planned on phrasing it quite like that. Actually, she hadn't planned on saying that at all, but rather, something much more vague because the right words wouldn't come out. Hikaru appears to have no such block, and Haruhi is a little grateful.

"Well, first of all, you didn't find us, Haruhi," Kaoru grins. " _We_ found _you._ "

Of course, that would be the one thing that stuck out to them out of everything she said. Haruhi doesn't know why she would have expected any different.

"You found me when you tried to rob me," she reminds them.

It doesn't have the desired effect. Quite the opposite. "And if we hadn't tried to rob you, we wouldn't have found you, so it all happened for a reason."

"Alright, alright," Haruhi mutters. Let them call it whatever they like. This isn't where she wants the conversation going anyway. Maybe it would be better if she just ends it here. There is no way this is going to become a happy one.

What's said is said, though, and just as Haruhi is thinking about laying down and looking at the stars some more, Kaoru is sighing.

"I've wondered..." he says wistfully. "Not just about them, about everyone. Ever since Hikaru and I started traveling. Sometimes, I used to think that the next town we found would have you guys in it. For a long time, I kept hoping..."

He bows his head, Haruhi stands away from him, fingers laced over her front. Hikaru has his eyes on his brother, listening with rapt attention. Haruhi wonders if he's like her, just hearing about this for the very first time. Haruhi sits on his other side, Mori-senpai having inched away to make room for her. She looks to Hikaru, who is sweating a little.

"I think..." he starts and then stops. Then he's deep in thought for a long time after Kaoru has lifted his head again and now Hikaru is the center of attention. "I mean, I couldn't believe it when I saw you that night, Haruhi. I thought maybe it was a dream. How could you still be alive in this world? How could any of us be?"

He gives a soft, empty laugh.

"I guess I should have had more faith. Kaoru and I have made it this far in one piece. Relatively speaking," he absently traces the lines of his scars. "Now that we're finding everyone again... I guess it's given all of us a little hope."

Haruhi nods, wanting to speak her agreement aloud, but not wanting to spoil the moment either. There are times when it seems Hikaru and Kaoru haven't aged a day, and then there are moments like this one.

"I'm surprised we haven't heard from Kyoya-senpai yet," Hikaru says. "With all the governments gone, I thought he'd have taken over the world by now."

Kaoru stifles a snicker. "Yeah, and made it mandatory to wear glasses and carry notebooks around."

"And he'd fund the economy by planting priceless vases all over the place for people to knock into so they would be in debt to him."

They dissolve into laughter. Haruhi knows now how fleeting moments can be. When the twins calm down, there is an air of awkwardness that settles, and no one seems to know how to break it. Haruhi isn't surprised. They've still got one more person to think about.

"I uh..." Kaoru coughs. "I don't know what happened after Hikaru and I got separated from you guys. Did they get out together, or..."

Haruhi bites her lip. She wishes now more than ever that she'd just kept her mouth shut and worried in silence. Even if Kaoru doesn't mean it, or even know what memories that question drudges up, she can't help the anger she feels. Why couldn't he have just kept joking about Kyoya-senpai. Come up with more ridiculous laws he might set into place if he were narcissistic enough.

Instead, she's hearing their voices again.

**

_There are people everywhere she looks. Terrified, screaming, pushing past her like nothing matters more than their own lives. She can't even look at them anymore. At least three times now, she's seen someone fall and get trampled into the concrete. She herself has almost tripped several times, and it's only the hands held in hers that have kept her standing. They've been running since the riot at the school started. Her legs and her feet are burning, but she can't stop. Even if they let her, those crushed bodies are going to haunt her for the rest of her life._

_"Hold on," Tamaki-senpai says in her ear. She can barely hear him over the noise. "Hold on to me."_

_She looks at him, knowing the answer before she asks the question. "Have you seen Hikaru and Kaoru anywhere?"_

_Tamaki looks stricken. Haruhi shakes her head to try and keep the tears at bay. They will do nothing but obstruct her vision._

_They keep going. Where they are going, Haruhi doesn't know. Away from here is about all she can think of right now. With Tamaki on side of her and Kyoya, Hunny-senpai and Mori-senpai on the other, they have formed a sort of chain, holding hands in iron grips so they won't lose each other. It didn't do much for Hikaru and Kaoru, but they can't stop now._

_"Hold on tight." Who is he talking to, really? Her? Himself? All of them?_

_The noise reaches it's peak when several shots are fired. Haruhi doesn't know who it is. She hasn't seen anyone with a gun. Now, everyone is screaming. People bowl over them, knocking Haruhi off her feet. Tamaki refuses to let go, however, and she finds herself buried in his chest, arms wrapped tightly around her like she's a lifeline and he will never let her go again. It's here that Haruhi realizes her other hand is holding air._

_Hunny-senpai... Mori-senpai... Kyoya-senpai..._

_"Come on," Tamaki choked out. That he's even this calm is astounding, because Haruhi feels like she'll fall apart any second now._

_When did this happen? How did this happen? She'd seen it in the news, or course. Frightening, disturbing things that kept her awake at night and left her unable to focus in the day. But this... she'd never expected this. Nobody did._

_Now, they're all gone. She sees smoke coming from the opposite direction and she doesn't want to know what is burning, but she has an idea. Her father may already be dead for all she knows. Her whole entire world has just become the person holding her. She clings to him now, just as hard as he does her, and now they are each other's protection. The crowd never thins out, only gets denser. The collective heat radiating off of them makes her sweat, and she can feel dampness in Tamaki's shirt. After a while, he starts to move._

_"Come on," he says again, stronger, with more conviction. He pulls them both up, and then they're running again. They seem to be on a street that doesn't end, and Haruhi's hand is slipping._

_"Hold on tight!"_

_"I can't..." Haruhi hates the fear and exhaustion in her voice. "I just-"_

_He stops again abruptly, pulls her to him, looks deep in her eyes._

_"Listen to me..." he says. His next few words are drowned out. Haruhi struggles to hear, and then there is more screaming. Without a gunshot to evoke them, Haruhi can't say what has just happened. Perhaps it's just everything at once. All she knows is that people are moving faster, pusher harder. They are all running blind. Several large men are about to collide with them. Haruhi's flight instincts kick into overdrive. She thinks she hears her name being called, and then she's running._

_She runs and she runs._

_She runs until she can't anymore and she realizes that no one is running with her._

_And she looks around and she sees nothing, calls out names and gets no answer. There is nothing to find but a single alleyway that is miraculously devoid of anything but rats. Haruhi staggers inside, all the way to the middle while people run in droves on both sides. Haruhi barely gets to catch her breath. Everything is collapsing on top of her at once._

_She is alone now._

_Haruhi falls to her knees and she finally cries._

**

Haruhi rolls over to the side as the memory fades. From there, it is just a blur to her. Somehow, she made it back home, finding it trashed with several of the neighbors, including the landlady, dead on the grass. She found her father upstairs in their apartment. He had barricaded the door and she was forced to enter through the window, which was then boarded up. How they made it after that, Haruhi didn't know. Several weeks went by before they ran out of food and Ranka was forced to remove the boards and open the door. By then, the screams had long since died away. Haruhi hadn't heard a sound in days, actually. When they opened the door and observed the damage, they found that they were not alone. Little more than half of their neighbors had survived, and following the reunions, it was time to help rebuild.

Ten years have gone by and the memories are fading into her subconscious, but that first day, when she lost almost everyone she loves, that will stay with Haruhi forever.

She steadies her breathing, as even as she can with this feeling like something is pressing down on her stomach. She moves not a muscle until Hikaru and Kaoru begin to talk amongst themselves, convinced that she is asleep. She can't hear them as well as before, but the name Kyoya slips in somewhere. They must be talking about ways he could rule the world again. That's good, better than the alternative. They could be like her, eyes closed, wide awake, unable to talk about it. It was like the night she spent at home, laying in bed with springs digging into her sides. Only now she knows they're alive, that there's a chance. If they found Hunny-senpai tomorrow, they would have almost everyone. Kyoya had to be alive, he's the one most suited to a world like this. It was Tamaki who kept her awake at night, for so many reasons, but mostly because he's the _least_ suited, and she knows it.

**  
They start off at first light. The fire died out in the night leaving only embers and smoke. Kaoru throws water over them just in case.

Hours go by, and it's midday, judging by the sun, by the time they make it to the next town. It looks a lot like Haruhi's. Broken buildings that have been converted into shops selling fruits and clothes and even toys in one case. There's a pair of little girls playing with ratty old dolls and making them have tea parties. A boy with a toy airplane runs by making loud 'whirring' noises.

Haruhi smiles as they pass. Looks like Hikaru was right about her being friend to all the children. It's a nice change, being in this town with so many people wondering around. If it weren't for the muted colors and general shabbiness of everything around her, Haruhi might have thought she'd gone back in time.

Hikaru has the flier out. It's faded and worn at the edges from being in his pocket for so long. He has to show it to three different people before they strike gold.

"Oh, yeah, they rolled in here a few days ago. They charge a fee to anyone who wants to try fighting this kid and if they win, they get a cash prize. You know, so they say. I'm pretty sure today's their last day and then they're heading out."

The man who tells them this is selling fruit, and Hikaru winds up buying a couple of apples from him in thanks. Haruhi has eaten hers to the core by the time they stop in what appears to be an old town square. Now, it's just a place for people to congregate and talk loudly about nothing to each other while salesmen yell reduced prices for their goods in the background. The group takes a seat at the base of a burned out clock tower. There is nothing but a black hole with some springs and cogs inside where the clock used to be.

"Think we should split up or something?" Haruhi asks, throwing the apple core aside.

"I don't know," Hikaru says. "The only road in this place seems to be straight ahead. If we walk long enough, we may find it within the hour."

He inches towards her as he speaks, perhaps unintentionally. Perhaps not. Haruhi drops it there either way. She casts a glance at Mori-senpai. He seems no more aware of their presence now than he was yesterday. She's almost surprised that he waited for them to get up this morning before leaving. She doesn't blame him, it's obvious what he's thinking about. She just wishes he'd at least look in their direction whenever someone said something to him. She's starting to get worried.

He gets tired of sitting around after a while and gets up. He still won't speak, but now he looks at them, and his eyes say it all.

_'Time to go. Now.'_

Haruhi nods and gets up. The twins follow. They have no more understanding of where they're going than they did before, other than 'straight ahead'. Crowds of people wander around, their voices carrying though little can be distinguished. Haruhi thinks she hears the name 'Kaito' a couple of times. Hikaru must hear it too, because he's rolling his eyes. They show the flier to a few more people, all of whom say the same as the fruit vendor. They've been in town a couple of days. They are leaving tomorrow. Keep going straight and you'll find them.

Eventually, they reach a spot where the crowds have gotten denser. Large, sweaty men bump into each other constantly, as if trying to provoke a fight. Their little group gets swallowed up, but mostly they aren't bothered. Mori-senpai gets the most attention, with his tall and strong frame. He's the kind of person these guys who are trying to prove their own masculinity and toughness would want to try and take on in a fight. Some people even do shout challenges at him, pounding their fists together and throw rocks and dirt their way. Mori-senpai wraps his large hand around the side of Haruhi's face to shield her, but he otherwise ignores them. Hikaru and Kaoru glare everyone else off.

They pass a bar, just as a pair of brawlers barrel out the front door, pounding each others faces in. People stop what they're doing to circle the fight and cheer them on. In the process, Hikaru is knocked into Kaoru, sending them both off their feet. A domino effect is only avoided when Mori's solid form is unaffected by the twins falling on him. He stops to help them up, and then they're off again.

"Maybe we should get out of here," Kaoru yells over the noise.

"No." Mori-senpai doesn't even need to shout to be heard. Haruhi is just surprised he's even speaking at all. "We're almost there."

He points, and now Haruhi sees even more men, along with some women, crowded around a fenced off area some twenty feet away. There is a man standing above them all, shouting into what looks like a homemade megaphone. If so, it had been poorly made. They come to stand right beside the fence, the people packed around it being the only thing keeping them from looking inside, and she still can't hear him well.

"Alright, Ladies and Gentlemen, this is going to be the last fight of the day!" The man says.

A collective groan travels through his audience. The man grins and laughs jovially. Haruhi takes one look at him and doesn't like him. He's wearing a red suit that looks like it was made for a magician who specializes in chidren's birthday parties. He has slicked back black hair and gold tinted sunglasses that are too big for his face. Her father hates those things. When she was a kid, he would come close to retching being in the mere presence of someone who wore them. Haruhi never really knew why, and she still doesn't. That's always going to be a major overreaction to a very trivial thing as far as she's concerned. Still, Haruhi could at least understand not wanting to be anywhere near this guy. Even his voice had a slimy edge to it when she could hear it well.

"So far, the Amazing Fighting Boy Man is undefeated, invincible, unstoppable! So I ask you now, all the big strong men out there who think they've got what it takes. Are you brave enough to come up here and take him on?"

People scream and holler. Men attempted to pull themselves over the fence as security guards push them back. Haruhi tries to look around, but everyone is pushing and shoving again and even taking a breath is becoming a chore. At least she knows she hasn't lost anyone important. Hikaru and Kaoru have had their hands on her back since they got here, and Mori-senpai is impossible to miss. He looks over the crowd at the stage. Even with his height, he's having trouble. His neck cranes up all the way, and something like a groan emits from his throat after a while.

"Maybe we should try getting closer," Haruhi suggests.

"Is that safe?"

Haruhi can't answer Hikaru, because she's not sure herself. The announcer starts walking along the square, heading their way so his voice is louder.

"Come on, Gentlemen. Any takers? Price for a fight is only 10000 yen!"

The crowd follows him as he passes. It looks like nobody has the money necessary to get in the ring, but they're going to try anyway. Those who don't try to force their way in throw whatever they have at the announcer, who grins like a fool but looks by them. Haruhi shakes her head at him, but her disapproval takes a backseat to surprise and pain when one of the hands on her squeezes down without warning.

"Look!" Kaoru screams.

The hoard of people in front of them stumble over each other trying to keep their friends from jumping in. Several have already been dragged away, and through enough remain that their is still danger, a space has cleared up around the fence. Haruhi can plainly see now the person inside. He is short in statue, and skinny as a rail. His blonde hair is dirty and tangled and his hands are bloody. He is hunched over like an animal hunting down his prey, and he glares at his potential opponents with a cold hardness that leaves no room for mercy.

And yet all Haruhi can see is a boy with an adorable smile who would do anything for a piece of cake.

"Hunny-senpai..." Haruhi's cheeks start to tickle, but she doesn't recognize yet that it's her tears.

"God, it's really him," Hikaru breathes.

"What are they _doing_ to him?" Kaoru says, and then sends a heated glare at the man with the megaphone, who is still trying to goad someone into forking over the money for a fight.

"Come on, come on, anyone!" He shouts as more people swarm around him.

Haruhi tears her eyes away from him and from Hunny-senpai, neither of whom appear to have noticed them yet. She turns to Hikaru and Kaoru just as the former pulls the three of them into a huddle.

"Alright, we've found him. Now we just have to figure out what to do next," he says.

"These guys finish up today, right? So we should follow them later and see where they're keeping Hunny-senpai, then break him out!"

"What if he's being guarded?" Haruhi asks.

"The only thing that would mean is that they must have some other way of keeping him in. I mean, it's Hunny-senpai. Why doesn't he just break himself out?"

"That's not the issue here, Hikaru," says Kaoru. "If he's being guarded, we'll just have Mori-senpai take them out. Then the three of us will grab Hunny-senpai in the confusion."

"First, we have to know where he's being kept," Haruhi says. "We can't really make a plan until then. He could be kept behind bars for all we know."

"As long as we have Mori-senpai, we should be fine no matter what," Hikaru says. "Right, Mori-senpai?"

They all three of them look up. Mori doesn't answer them, doesn't even appear to have been listening. He stares at Hunny-senpai, who isn't looking back, while the man with the megaphone shouts himself hoarse, apparentaly still looking for a suitable challenger.

"Come on, there has to be someone here with the cash and the cajones to give it a try!"

Like his words are a signal, Mori starts to move. He stops for nothing, even when Hikaru and Kaoru try to call him back. Haruhi says nothing, she can only watch him go. He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans, and hasn't even pulled anything out by the time it dawns on Haruhi what he's about to do. Then she's torn between wanted to shout along with the twins and wanting them to shut up and let him go. She knows which Mori would want, but that doesn't help much.

He stops in front of the man, but doesn't get his attention right away. It takes waving the 10000 yen note in his face to finally silence him.

"I'll take him on."

The twins simultaneously choke. Haruhi closes her eyes.

The man with the megaphone is frozen for a moment, like he didn't actually expect anyone to take him up on the offer he's been screaming for the past ten minutes. The people around them go quiet as well. They size up Mori-senpai before wisely choosing to back away. The noise starts up again when the man with the megaphone lets out a booming laugh.

"Well, finally! We've got ourselves a challenger, everybody!"

The audience cheers, with only a few booes mixed in from those who missed their shot. Haruhi is prepared for their reactions, so it doesn't surprise her at all when she is dragged along with Hikaru and Kaoru through the rowdy crowd and towards Mori-senpai. There is just mild discomfort at Hikaru's tight grip on her wrist.

"Mori-senpai!" he shouts again and again. "Mori-senpai! Are you serious? What do you think you're doing?"

Mori-senpai has one leg over the fence when he turns his head and speaks in his usual flat tone. Despite this, his words hold more power than anything Haruhi has ever herad him say.

"What I _have_ to do."

He goes over all the way and disappears from sight. Hikaru and Kaoru seem torn between going after him or not. They wouldn't make it far with those guards everywhere, and anyway, Haruhi is the one holding them now.

"Let him go," she says, and she shakes her head when she sees the looks on their faces. "I don't like it either, but I think this means more to him and Hunny-senpai than we can ever understand."

They seem to understand then, looking reluctant still, but saying no more. They instead find a newly cleared spot and grab it before anyone else can crowd them. Haruhi leans slightly over the fence, trying to get a good look at Hunny's face as he faces down his cousin. Her heart sinks a little when she sees him, no less cold and callous than before, when no one with a personal attachment to him was near. With Mori's back to them, Haruhi has no idea how he looks, but she can't imagine it being any more pleasent or welcoming.

What he had to do, he said. The implications of that are not lost on her. She has a sudden flashback to the day she first met Hunny-senpai's brother. That day is fresh in her mind while the man with the megaphone is laying down the rules of the fight (three minutes, winner is the last one standing, if the challenger wins he gets a cash prize), even though the electricity between Hunny and Mori is not as warm and playful as that day between Hunny and his brother. There is nothing between them right now except something that makes Haruhi shiver and want to look away. She suddenly doesn't recognize Hunny anymore, or perhaps she's really seeing for the first time what he has become and not what he was. There is clear aging in that youthful face and a hardness that had never been there before. Not even when he was in his 'dark' mode.

"Alright, is everybody ready?" the man with the megaphone shouts.

 _'Not really,'_ Haruhi thinks while everyone around her whoops and cheers.

The man with the megaphone motions at a man holding a moderatly sized brass bell. Where they found that, she'll never know. It works perfectly well, though, when the man gives it a smack and the fight begins.

If Haruhi expected it to go as it had been, with Hunny and Mori doing nothing but staring at each other, not a single blow traded between the two of them while everyone looked on wondering what the hell was happening, she was dead wrong.

The very second ringing filled the air, Hunny-senpai vanished. Haruhi blinked her eyes a few times, thinking it was just a trick of the light until Hunny-senpai lands. Right where Mori-senpai had been until just a moment ago. The taller man flew back to the very edge of the ring, easily keeping his balance and dodging three consecutive kicks before finally delivering a blow of his own. He punches air as Hunny-senpai jumps backwards. They find themselves back where they started, while the audience, stunned into silence, suddenly goes wild. The man with the megaphone is saying something, but he is completely drowned out, and Haruhi doesn't care to listen to him anymore anyway. Her nails dig into Hikaru's hand, but he says nothing about it. The three of them are transfixed. If this is how things are going to continue, they don't even want know what will happen if Mori-senpai loses.

"Well?" Hunny-senpai says. "Is that all you can do?"

His voice is deeper than Haruhi remembers, but that's to be expected. With everything she's seen so far, Haruhi can't even bother to be scared. She finds herself clutching Hikaru and Kaoru's hands tighter regardless.

Mori-senpai doesn't get a chance to answer. Hunny-senpai goes on the offensive again. He throws a punch, just grazing Mori-senpai's cheek and receiving a blow to the lower back in response. It does little to deter him. Hunny-senpai kicks at Mori-senpai's legs, and the latter jumps, does a flip mid air and lands on his feet. Hunny-senpai growls and charges again. From there, it is a storm of punches and kicks from both sides with neither seeming to score any hits. The crowd is all but insane at this point. Haruhi's ear drums will shatter if they get any louder.

Eventually, Hunny-senpai punches a little too close to Mori-senpai's arm, and his fist is immediately caught. He tsks and tries to break free, but Mori-senpai is faster. The next thing anyone knows, he has both of Hunny's hands in his and they are both pushing in. No progress is made, and pretty soon the audience starts to quiet down, though the noise never truly fades. It gets to a level where, when Hunny-senpai starts to speak, probably everyone can hear him.

"I woke up," he says through grit teeth. "And you were gone."

Mori-senpai sucks air through his nose, and weakens just a little at the words that are like a slap in the face more painful and debilitaing that a phsyical hit could ever be. Hunny-senpai does nothing with this opening, which strikes Haruhi as very odd. Even she notices it, and she doesn't know the first thing about martial arts.

"You were gone," Hunny-senpai repeats.

Then he uses it.

One hand comes free and then a high kick to the face takes care of the other one. Mori-senpai falls on his behind in a rather undignified way, and doesn't get up fast enough to avoid Hunny's follow up attack, and elbow to the stomach. The audience winces sympathetically. Hunny-senpai let's out an animalistic roar and seizes the lapels of Mori-senpai's shirt, pulling him halfway up until their noses are touching. In the sunlight, now uncovering by clouds, there are tears streaming freely down his face.

"YOU WERE GONE!"

People start whispering amongst themselves. The same questions pass through numerous lips so again, Haruhi doesn't bother to listen. Those who are not talking, including herself, Hikaru, Kaoru and the man with the megaphone, have their eyes locked on the two combatants. Mori-senpai catches his breath, and wipes a smudge of dirt off his face before he's forced back down again. Hunny-senpai applies further pressure to his chest. He's pratically seething now.

He wants Mori-senpai to answer, Haruhi decides. He won't take silence, not today. Mori-senpai raises a hand. This time, it's meant for Hunny-senpai, but it isn't an attack. It's far too slow and easy. Hunny-senpai chokes back a sob when it reaches his face, carrassing his cheek lovingly.

"I know," Mori-senpai says.

Without warning, he flips. Hunny-senpai, caught completely off guard for perhaps the first time in his life, goes flying. He lands on his back, Mori-senpai towering over him. The rapid change in position makes the man with the megaphone drop his megaphone to the ground. It splits in half on impact.

"I know," Mori-senpai says again. "And I never will be again."

Hunny-senpai makes an assortment of tiny noises that sound like they could have been words in his head. The fight is over. No call has been made, either by the man with the megaphone or the man with the bell, but Haruhi knows it's over. Everyone does. What strength Hunny-senpai had has seeped away, and she suspects it's the same for Mori-senpai. His hand hasn't even left Hunny-senpai's face, but she can see his stance weakening.

"Mitsukuni," he whispers.

And the tension shatters in an instant. Hunny-senpai gives a sharp, high-pitched cry as he launches himself in Mori-senpai's arms. Mori-senpai pulls him so close, he might break him in half. They rock back and forth, Hunny-senpai's open sobs obscruting his speech, though for Haruhi, he is perfectly clear.

"Takashi. Takashi!"

"Mitsukuni," Mori answers. He's crying now too, as stoically as one could expect of him. He rubs Hunny-senpai's back, small circles that may be to calm him, but if so, aren't doing their job.

Somewhere in the corner, the man with the megaphone is speaking furiously to the man with the bell, who is fast growing frantic the longer this goes on.

"It can't be helped," he says. "The challenger had him pinned at the end of the third minute. The challenger _wins._ "

The man with the megaphone runs his fingers through his hair, it's inexplicable perfection gone in an instant. Now it's wild and springing out in all directions like it reflects the man's lose of composure. Any other time, Haruhi would have thought it just desserts. She might have even laughed a little. The man looks ready to tear his scalp in half, he was pulling his hair so hard.

All Haruhi can see is Hunny-senpai and Mori-senpai. All she can feel is the pure unadulterated joy that radiates off of them. It wipes her mind clean of the negativity last night had brought her, that she carried with her up until now. They will come back to her sometime soon, maybe today, maybe tomorrow, and Haruhi knows it. They always do. But for right now, she is positive. She is optimistic. She is happy.

Because Mori-senpai and Hunny-senpai are the happiest they've ever been, and it tells her that they all will be someday. They will find Kyoya, and they will find Tamaki, and they will all be like Hunny-senpai and Mori-senpai, hugging and crying and holding each other like they will never let go. It's going to happen.

Haruhi knows it will.


	10. Alone

He opens his eyes and he sits up in bed. The clock reads far past noon. He's overslept.

Groaning, he runs fingers through tangled hair, hitting knots that pull painfully at his scalp. He throws his legs over the side of the bed and strides to the bathroom. He's almost out of water, but the mirror is clean enough without it. He brushes out the knots and ties his hair back, leaving not a single strand behind. Once that's done, he uses the little bit of water he has to it's fullest extent, washing his hands and his face and brushing his teeth. When he's done, he examines himself one more time in the mirror. He sees the same old face, clean and well shaven. The bags under his eyes are of no consequence. They're what he gets for staying up until 4 in the morning trying to settle another land dispute. Next time, he's just going to delegate someone else to take care of it.

He rubs his eyes and stretches tired muscles until he feels completely awake. Dressing only takes him a few minutes. Everything is set out for him, neatly folded on the chair by the closet. His strips off yesterday's clothes and puts on today's. He leaves the laundry on the bed. It'll be gone by the time he gets back.

He stops quickly in his office. There is nothing and no one waiting for him, which he appreciates. He's been leader for over three years now, and he's gotten used to the responsibilties, but he needs a day to himself every now and then. Today is going to be one of those days.

Because he had a dream again. It happens, sometimes frequently, and sometimes not, but they always come. He's learned to expect them. They are never anything concrete, nothing to be worried about. Just shadows and voices he doesn't recognized, but maybe if he thinks hard enough, they'll ring a bell somewhere down the line. Too bad he never does. It's not like he can either, he forgets most of it as soon as he's up and moving. Today is no different. There was a woman's voice, whispering words were familiar while he was entranced, but meant nothing to him when awake. Just a passing fancy from his youth perhaps.

They wouldn't matter to him at all, but he hated the way they made him feel when he woke up and didn't remember them. He didn't believe in dwelling on the past, only living in the present and looking to the future. That was the most important thing if one wanted to survive. Waking up on morning like this left him thinking maybe that wasn't true. Maybe there was warrant to remembering the past, all the people you may have known and loved and the life you may have lost. And that is like wind blowing through a hole in his chest that he can never close. He may be no expert, but that is the absolute worst feeling in the world as far as he's concerned. There is only one thing he can do to get rid of it.

He exits out the front door. His home is the biggest building on the block. Once upon a time, it was a courthouse. A fitting home for a leader, he supposed.

As soon as he's out in the open, all the men and women walking by, carrying out there work or just out for leisure, stop to greet him.

"Hello, Kaito-sama!"

"Afternoon, Kaito-sama!"

"I was wondering if we'd see you today, Kaito-sama. I hope you're doing well."

He smiles and nods at them all, offering a few polite words in return before going on his way. He's lucky to have such understanding people, who know how much he doesn't like chit chat and long conversations with no meaning. He walks a ways further and a pair of girls in their teens walk out of their home, speaking about something trivial until one catches sight of him and shushes the over. The two girls run to him, grinning wide stifling giggles.

"Good Afternoon, Kaito-sama," says the first one. "How are you today?"

Kaito inwardly sighs. He knows these girls. They do this every day. He smiles.

"Just fine, thank you for asking, Ladies."

He nods and walks away, while the now red faced girls give little squeals of joy.

"Did you see that? He smiled right at me!"

"No way, are you blind? He was looking at _me._ "

"Why would he look at you, you didn't talk to him."

"Yeah, you wish he'd smile at you, don't be so pathetic.

" _I'm_ pathetic?!"

He quickens his pace a bit, just to get away before he has to listen to more silly bickering.

He's halfway there when he's stopped yet again. This time, by a woman his age, her short brown hair pushed back by a headband so her softly pretty face is on full display. The basket on her arm is full of fresh fruit and looks heavy. He thinks about offering to help, but she's never accepted all the other times, why start now?

"Kaito-sama," she says when he passes. "I was hoping you'd join us for dinner tonight. Junko-chan would be thrilled."

"I'll see if I can make it," he answers. He think he probably will, so long as things go well where he's going. And he knows they will. "Thanks, Aina."

"You're not going to the Basement, are you?"

He stops short. Her disapproving tone makes him wince. She sounds so much like a mother, it would be a sin if she wasn't already one.

"I have important matters to attend to."

This is code for 'stop asking me.' He doesn't need to turn and look to know she's shaking her head. She does it so much, it's a perfectly clear image in his minds eye. He bids her goodbye one more time and they part ways. He might have to pass that dinner invite now. No way she's not going to try and lecture him about this tonight.

He makes it to the Basement, which is actually an aboveground little house at the edge of town, but it's dark and dank and starts to smell like dirty water if left alone for too long, earning it it's nickname. The door is about the only thing sturdy about it. The rest looks like it's going to fall about any second. He casts a glance at the rotting wooden roof. It doesn't look too bad yet, but they may have to think about changing locations soon.

Everything is in full swing when he steps inside. It's mostly men today, all crowded around a pair of brawlers. One is completely dominating over the other, who has resorted to a fetal postion to try and block his face from being hit. At least, that's what it looks like before the man shoots up and tackles his opponent to the ground. He sits on his stomach and lands several good punches before he's knocked off. From there, the fight is mostly even. Neither of these guys are prize fighters. Their moves are sloppy at best, but this is not a test of skill. This isn't about that.

The fight ends with a draw. While catching their breath, the two men trade high fives and share a quick hug. They've been best friends for as long as anyone can remember. They exit the ring and then today's referee, a lanky, balding man with a few teeth missing from a bad punch several months ago, stands in the center.

"Okay, who's next?"

And that's when he walks to the edge of the tarp that surrounds the ring and the whole room goes quiet. He steps over it and holds out his hand to the stunned referee, who needs a moment to come back to his senses before he takes it. Then he looks out at the crowd with an ear-splitting grin.

"We're going to need one more."

Another man shows up in the ring, he's one Kaito has never seen before, but he's big and tough looking and should prove to be a good match. The referee calls it, and his opponent charges.

Kaito leaves an hour later, his knuckles and cheek badly brusied. It'll take a lot to cover them up, but in his wake are three men out cold, along with all his anxieties and reseravations.

And he feels _so very good_ right now.

**

By the time Hunny-senpai has calmed down, wiped all the tears from his and Mori-senpai's faces, the crowd has been shooed off by the guards. Haruhi has watched them work. They pushed her and the twins off to one side and left them alone from there. She's determined that the man with the megaphone is the one in charge of the operation. All the guards and the man with the bell look to him every now and then, as if expecting him to give them reassurance of something. The man with the megaphone is too busy pacing and muttering to himself.

He enters the ring. Hunny-senpai sees him over Mori-senpai's shoulder, and his eyes take on that same, dark look that is almost feral. Haruhi shivers.

"What do you want?" he demands.

The man with the megaphone stops short, mouth open in shock. The guards also begin to look uncomfortable, making Haruhi think this is the first time Hunny-senpai has ever spoken to them like this.

The man laughs nervously. "Well, this has all been very nice, but we do need to get going. How about you say goodbye to your friend and-"

"No."

The area seemed to go deathly still. All except Hunny and Mori, who got to their feet and stood in line with each other.

"What was that?" the man with the megaphone asks lightly.

Hunny-senpai smirks. "I'm not going anywhere with you, Togawa. Not anymore."

At this, Togawa's smile fades and his eyebrows knit in anger. If Haruhi wasn't so sure that he was no match for either of them, she'd be worried for their safety. Togawa isn't very tall or muscular, but he has a sharp, frigthening face and it only looks worse when he's snarling like this.

"I don't believe that's up to you, Mitsukuni."

"Don't you remember?" Hunny-senpai answers with relish. "That was our deal when you first found me. I fight for you, and if I ever lose, you let me go. I just lost. Now, we're leaving."

He turns and Mori-senpai follows. They jump out of the ring, leaving Togawa alone to fum. It seems like he was just going to let it go when Hunny and Mori get past his guards with no trouble, and Hunny-senpai looks their way with so much brightness and joy that Haruhi thinks any second now, he's going to explode into rainbows and bunnies and whatever else he has on his mind all the time. Haruhi can't shake the little feeling niggling at her, that this isn't going to be so easy. The way Togawa's eye bore into them doesn't help. Then, his face cracks into a smile.

He snaps his fingers.

The guards run to surround them.

By now, Hunny and Mori are close enough that Togawa must realize they are all together, and so Haruhi finds herself, Hikaru and Kaoru drawn into the fray as well. The twins stand tall, trying to look as threatening as possible for the group of large men who are now pulling an assortment of weaponry out from their jackets. They range from small knives to guns that look too big to be hidden like that, let alone in the hands of men like this.

"Sorry, Kid," Togawa says. Two men part a ways so he can enter the circle. With all his men around, he's acting a lot braver than Haruhi suspects he really is. "I'd love to keep my end of the deal, but I get quite a bit off of you and I can't afford to lose you right now. I'm sure you understand."

He nods to a man right beside him, one who remains unarmed, unlike his peers. He starts to reach into his jacket, and whatever he's about to pull out, it must be something serious. Hunny-senpai moves like lightning, sailing through the air and sinking a knee into the man's nose. He goes down, blood spurting out as he screams in pain. The rest of the men converge, but Mori-senpai is ready for them. What happens next is fast and hard and proves that they have not gotten rusty at all. They render all of Togawa's men unconscious. Togawa can only look on coldly, sweat pooling at his brow as things spiral further out of his control. Hunny-senpai finishes off the final man with a jab to the neck, then he signals to Mori-senpai, and the two run at Haruhi and the twins. When they get to them, they don't stop.

"Come on," Hunny-senpai shouts. "Move. Now."

Haruhi doesn't need telling twice, and neither does Hikaru, who hasn't let go of her hand in all this time and is pulling her along before Haruhi can take one step. Togawa shouts at their backs, and Haruhi at first thinks it's just ranting and raving. Then their five sets of footsteps are joined by an undiscernable number. Haruhi looks back, and it seems Togawa has more people working for him than she thought.

"Keep going," Hikaru urges her.

The gun she carries beats against her back to the point that it's uncomfortable, but it's presense reassures her, and also scares her a little. If they can't outrun these guys, there is always another way to slow them down. Haruhi just hopes she can really bring herself to do it. This is the first time she'd ever have to.

Something snaps and a high pitched whine follows. Whatever it is is getting louder and hurting her ears.

"Get down!" Hunny screams.

Haruhi trips over her own feet, pulling Hikaru with her and rolling on the ground. Kaoru drops to the ground beside them, but Mori-senpai appears to have lost his footing at the worst possible time. He is almost crushing Hunny-senpai, on his knees and grunting, reaching futilely for his back and the little brown, cigarette shaped projectile sticking out of his. Hunny-senpai pulls himself free and rips it out for him, throwing it to the ground and crushing it under his foot.

"No... you bastards," he hisses.

"Mitsukuni..." Mori-senpai says, though it comes out more like slurring. As the rest are pulling themselves back up and the adrenaline coursing through them makes them itch to start running, Mori-senpai is slumped over like a bag of bricks.

"What's wrong with him?" Haruhi asks, but a second later, she spots the crushed remains of the dart Hunny-senpai pulled out of Mori's back, and with growing horror, it dawns on her.

So that's how they kept him from escaping.

Without a word, Hikaru and Kaoru pull the larger man up. Even with the two of them, Mori-senpai is two heavy. They each take one arm over their shoulders, his feet are left to drag.

"Go, go!"

Haruhi breaks into a sprint. That's not saying much, since she's slow enough even when she doesn't have fear for her life to keep her moving. And now Hikaru and Kaoru are slowing down, the weight of Mori-senpai's limp body already too much for them. Hunny-senpai is the fastest, but that was true even before, small as he may be. He has to intentionally hold back so not to lose them. Haruhi miserably thinks he could have gotten away long ago if it wasn't for them.

"Faster... faster..." someone is saying. She can't even tell who anymore.

When someone jumps out from behind the bushes, she almost doesn't believe it's real. A brown coat takes up her vision for a split second. Her rifle is being jerked at, the strap tighting around her neck so she can't breathe. Haruhi yelps as best as she can and tries to fight off the now numerous pairs of hands all over her. Fingernails stratch at the base of her neck, finally gaining the leverage they need to relieve her of her sole source of defense. The hands remove themselves from her neck, and only now to Haruhi's cries become audible. Another person shouts, and then there's a hand on her wrist, pulling her violently to the side. She lands in a thorn bush, the sharp points piercing her skin at all angles, but the sensations are mild and fleeting, and Haruhi's heart abd mind are still running a mile a minute and that must be doing something for her pain tolerance.

She crawls backwards away from the bush, aided by the hands that haven't let go of her yet. Craning her neck back, Haruhi catches large brown eyes staring back at her. Hunny-senpai raises a finger to shush her, a meaningless act since he clamps a hand over her mouth as soon as Togawa starts shouting his name.

Haruhi struggles against him to sit up. Even if he won't let her go, she has to see for herself what is happening. She is still disoriented and barely understands how they got here in the first place. Her heart plummets into her stomach when she sees. Hikaru and Kaoru are on their feet, arms held behind their backs and long, jagged knives pressed against their throats. Mori-senpai is flat on his face, so still that Haruhi fears for a moment that they're already killed him. His occaisional twitches and the terribly slow rise and fall of his chest are only small reassurances. There is still the matter of the gun barrel aimed straight at his head by Togawa himself.

 _Her_ gun.

"I know you're out there, Mitsukuni. Come on, now!" Togawa pokes at Mori-senpai's head with the gun like he's a fresh kill. "You seemed to like this guy a lot, I doubt you want his brains in the dirt. So come quietly and I promise to let your friends here live and to forgive you. We have a deal?"

Hunny-senpai tenses up, squeezing down hard and making Haruhi wonder if he's forgotton that he's holding her. Angry tears spill down his face as he abruptly looks at her. Their eyes meet for the first time in ten years.

"I pulled you out," he whispers. His grip loosens, and his hand on her mouth slowly slips away. "You were the only one I could grab and- well, I don't think any of them know that you're a woman. The way they were touching you, they would have figured it out fast. You don't want to know what they'd do then."

Haruhi wants to respond, but nothing will come to her. She thinks Hunny-senpai's tears are contagious, but she can feel them welling up, hot and salty. He throws his arms around her without warning, but Haruhi eagerly accepts his hug.

"I am so, so happy to see you again, Haru-chan."

Haruhi grins, loving that childish nickname more than she ever thought possible. Hunny-senpai buries his face into her shoulder, and she rubs soothing circles on his back the way she'd seen Mori-senpai do before. His breath hitches.

"Hey Mitsukuni! Are you listening to me? The clock is ticking over here. I'm going to count to ten, and you'd better be out here by the time I reach ten or I'm starting with your jolly giant. One... two... three..."

Haruhi scrunches her eyes shut as Hunny-senpai goes still against her.

"Four... five..."

"We have to do something," she murmurs in his ear.

He nods.

"Six... seven..."

"I know," he says, resigned. Defeated.

"Eight..."

Right before it happens, Hunny-senpai shifts, pulling ever so slightly away from her. Haruhi doesn't know what he's doing, or what kind of plan he might have. Tamaki and Kyoya were always the ones who made plans. She hasn't the faintest idea what Hunny-senpai is going to do about all this. Not until he looks at her with his eyes dry, and with a gleam in them more mature than she ever thought possible.

"Nine..."

"But I won't let them take you too."

The side of his hand collides with the back of Haruhi's neck. There is a burst of pain and then nothing. Haruhi knows no more.

**

"Ten!"

Hunny flinches, but doesn't pause in his work for even a second. He knows Togawa and how he functions. He knows the man loves to bluff, even though he will go through with his threats if pushed far enough. He had to wait until Haruhi was completely out and limp in his arms. Pulling her up is too easy. She's as small as ever and maybe even lighter. He places her behind another bush, one without thorns, and covers her with some brush. Soon, she is invisible. None of Togawa's men will bother checking bushes and trees for a runaway with no association to them. Not so long as they have him.

"You hear that, Mitsukuni? I said ten! Now either you come out or your friends die. What's it going to be?"

Hunny-senpai clenches a fist. Someday, he's going to find a way out of this. They're going to make a mistake: not drug him enough, not lock the cage properly, forget to chain him up before the fights begin. When that day comes, Togawa is going to feel everything he's felt and so much more.

He walks out into the clearing. Togawa spots him first, with his hands in the air, and grins. He raises the gun away from Takashi's head and gestures at the forest with it.

"What happened to the other one?"

Hunny shrugs non-chalantly. "Ran off. I don't know where."

Togawa raises an eyebrow disbelievingly. Hunny keep the mask of stoicism up until one of Togawa's men gives a dismissive wave.

"Ah, let 'im go, boss. That guy was too puny to be of any use anyway."

A couple of others nod or grumble in agreement. Togawa purses his lips, stares back at Hunny for the longest time before turning and walking away.

"Whatever, so long as we have our star and some fresh meat. Let's go, boys!"

Someone grabs Hunny from behind and makes him walk. Of course, it would be so easy for him to free himself, it was laughable. Togawa kept him complicant in the best way he knew. Hikaru and Kaoru marched with the knifes still at their jugulars. One wrong move and they would bleed out in seconds. Takashi was thrown over a larger henchmen's shoulder, Togawa lazily aiming the gun at him again and humming a tune.

Hikaru and Kaoru glance at him. The question in their eyes is clear, and Hunny nods.

 _'She's safe,'_ he mouths when no one is looking.

They collectively let out a breath, but any and all relief burns out when they are kicked into moving faster. Hunny looks straight ahead, watching Takashi's head loll from one side to the next. The pain in his heart is unbearable. Years, he spent dreaming that one day they would find each other again. In his wildest fantasies, all the others were with him when that day came. To have it come so close to being a reality, only for it to be ripped out from under him and stomped into the ground like this...

He sees his cage, new straw lining it makes for a soft and itchy bed. A henchmen hands Togawa another knock out dart. Of course they won't lowering any of their weapons from the others until he's no longer a threat. The needle pricks his skin in a familiar spot, and as his world fades, Hunny tries to be thankful, to hope beyond all hope.

Because he has Takashi back, and Hikaru and Kaoru. And because Haruhi won't suffer at their hands now, and because she's the smartest, most resourceful person he's ever known and she has to be alright in the end. They all do.

Because Togawa may be smart, but he's not that smart. He's given Hunny something he didn't have before, he's given him allies.

Hunny's act conscious act is to smile. The day he dreams of is coming...

**

Haruhi awakes to a dull throbing in her head. As awareness seeps into her, it becomes clear that this isn't entirely true. The pain is coming from the back of her neck and radiating upwards.

She rolls off her side, and her arm which is numb from laying on it too long. She shakes it out until she can feel it again to the tips of her fingers. She flexes them once or twice, using her good arm to try and massage the pain away so she can think clearly. This is what she gets for falling asleep outside in the woods.

That's when the memories of yesterday all come flooding back. Haruhi gasps and shoots to her feet. She runs without thinking about it back towards the town. Compared to yesterday, it's a ghost town. The few people walking around are calm and subdued and minding their own business, and stare at her like she's insane when she runs by.

She gets to the fighting grounds. They are both empty and covered in litter. The fence pieces have been removed, the caravan they came is gone, save some wheel marks that lead down the road and, from her vantage point, seem to go on forever. Haruhi forces herself to breathe slowly, in and out. In and out.

She turns and runs back to the heart of the little village, stopping the first person she saw, the fruit vendor from yesterday.

"Oh, hey there," he says, recognizing her immediately. "Going solo today?"

"Please," Haruhi says desperately. "What happened to those people? The ones who were here yesterday that we asked you about?"

"Huh? They left," the man answers like it's obvious. "That's what I told you yesterday. It was their last day. They started off late last night. They'll be miles away by now... are you alright?"

But Haruhi can't answer him. She's already halfway up the road and around the corner and she never stops once.

**

She spends two days in the forest. After leaving the town with what little food and water she had left, she followed the tracks the caravan left behind for miles. They lead her into a grassy field, where the trail disappears and there are one too many directions they could have gone in. This happens halfway through the first day, and it's only now that Haruhi has nothing left to hold it all in. Before, she kept her emotions and her thoughts at bay just by putting one foot in front of the other, even when she exhausted, and telling herself, _'keep going... keep going... keep going...'_

Deep down, she always knew that this wouldn't work, that something would happen to stop the trail cold. Seeing it meant the end of her ability to deny it, to deny anything. Haruhi sinks to her knees, hands planted on the ground as teardrops slip down into blades of grass. She doesn't know if it's her, or if the temperature really is dropping, but she is so cold. Wrapping her arms around herself does nothing to help. Somehow, it only makes it worse.

She's never felt so alone before, so hopeless. It's been over a week since she was kidnapped, but it doesn't feel like so long now. Had she really had them back for so many days? Had they really stood in front of her and spoken to her and had she really touched them and felt them sleeping beside her every night? It's starting to feel like just a wonderful dream. The cold is biting at her skin.

She keeps moving, even after losing her lead. She picks a direction to walk in and from there, that's all she does. She just walks. The few times she tries to sleep, it won't come to her. She found a bush that grew non-poisonous berries and stored as many of them as she could in her deep pockets. She had thrown all her spare ammo in the lake. Not like she needed it anymore.

By nightfall on the second day, Haruhi's pockets are far lighter than they started out being. She pulls all the remaining berries out and counts them. 46 left, enough for a few more days at least if she's careful. She eats five of them right away to give herself a little more energy. She's running low, though. The lack of sleep is finally getting to her. She has to work just to keep her eyes open, and three times now, she's almost walked into a tree. The sky is unusually dark tonight, even worse than the night after she escaped her kidnappers. The night all of this started...

It had been a long time since she'd thought of her home. Normally, they crossed her mind several times a day, always spoiling whatever high mood she happened to be in. They probably believed her dead by now. If she ever got back, she expected to see a grave stone all set up for her, right next to Nekozawa's. Now who would go and visit them with Renge and the kids? For that matter, how would her father go on, believing her dead? That was the worst thought of all, and Haruhi could only tell herself that they rest of their friends would be there for him, and they would help him through it. They wouldn't let him slip over the edge.

Thinking about her friends was like thinking about her home now. Both made her feel like someone was repeatedly punching her in the stomach, and both stayed with her for hours on end and now, she had no good thoughts to combat them. She just kept telling her to keep going. Even if there was nothing left to go to, just keep going... keep going... keep going...

Haruhi stops to rest against a tree for a moment. That she even found one at all was a stroke of luck in this darkness. Was the sky really so cloudy tonight, or was it just a new moon? Even that wasn't a very good explanation because she seen over a hundred new moons over the years and they were never like this. It was almost like something was blocking it out.

Haruhi turns to the right, where the moon should be coming from at this time of night. There is nothing but an unnatural blackness, something that can't possibly be the sky now that she looks carefully.

"What is that...?" Haruhi askes herself under her breath. She heads towards, taking cautious steps so not to run into anything. What she wouldn't give for a flashlight right now. Hikaru had been carrying the only one.

Getting closer meant and increase in the darkness. Haruhi's eyes struggle to adjust and make out the funny black shapes in front of her. One of them looks vaguely rectangular and is down to the ground. Something silvery hangs off it at the middle. It almost looks like a padlock...

It _is_ a padlock.

Haruhi's eyes widen as she looks all the way up. The farther she goes, the closer she gets to the stars that she can now finally see here, where the trees part.

_'This is a wall?'_

Someone jumps out behind her. Haruhi has no time to process it. There are hands grabbing her from behind and they are not Hikaru's or Kaoru's this time. The grip is loose enough that she gets a hand free and punches wildly, managing to get her attacker in the ear. He curses and let's go. Haruhi has nowhere else to go, and so she runs at the wall. Once she reaches it, she'll have to turn. There's no way this guy can see her without a light.

A light like the one currently blinding her. Haruhi really has to learn not to tempt fate like this. Another person, stronger than the last, has her now. She struggles and screams but the first man is back, covering her mouth. She fights hard against them, until fingers pinch at a nerve in her neck, and she becomes woozy.

 _'Not again...'_ she thinks, and then she's out.

**

The intruder calms down as they lose consciousness. The fighting stops and his partner pushes away from them. He mutters a few explicitives, walking around the area to look out for anyone else. With everything happening lately, the odds of this guy having accomplices is pretty good.

"I don't see anything," his partner says. "It's too dark. Let's just go back inside and put this guy in a cell. We'll look again when the sun comes out."

He nods and throws the young man over his shoulder. He's extremely light, almost like a woman. He was stronger than he looked, though. Just about got away from them there. His partner pulls out the gate key and fumbles with the lock for several moments. He's never been known for his patience and gives a loud sigh.

"Can we move it along?"

His partner turns around and may be glaring. It's hard to tell. "You want to try this then? Forgive me for being a little nervous right now. This is the second intruder we've had today. Do you have any idea how angry Kaito-sama is going to be when he finds out about this?"

He shakes his head and his partner gives him a 'forget you' wave, then goes back to work. He gets the key in and the door unlocks, and the two of them and their latest capture walk into the enormous town amid lights that illuminate the streets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys! This is the final chapter before the big one. I am shaking, I'm so excited. 
> 
> We are almost a third of the way through this story. It is something of a three-parter. Next chapter will be the end of Part 1, and Part 3 will start another 11 or so chapters later. 
> 
> Some of you have been asking about Kaito's importances to the story, and a few others have made guesses. I can tell you that all your questions will be answered in the next chapter, which I should hopefully be posting at least by next week. I wouldn't make promises since I do not have a good track record for keeping them at all, but I am pretty damn motivated to write the next couple of chapters. I'll see you then!


	11. Kaito

Kaito enters the jailhouse alone. Junko had wanted to come with him -she kept on begging until he was out the door- but he doubted Aina would appreciate him bringing her nine year old to an interrogation even if he wanted to.

Two men are waiting for him when he gets there. He recognizes them as the ones who have been chosen to guard the wall tonight. The smaller one shifts off to the side when he approaches, a mumbled greeting his only acknowledgment of Kaito's presence. Kaito lets it slide for now. The only thing of interest to him is the lifeless body thrown over the larger man's shoulder. The man gives a respectfully low bow, almost allowing the prisoner to slip off of him. A little moan escapes their lips, but they don't stir. At least Kaito knows they're still alive.

"What is this?"

"Found him wandering around outside," the large man says. He walks to the interrogation table and drops the prisoner on it. In the bright light of the many lanterns around the room, Kaito can now clearly see the petite, skinny frame and windswept brown hair cut short. Their chest rises and falls slowly, but not too slowly. A cursory glance reveals no cuts or scratches or anything beyond a large bruise on the back of the neck, something he doubts his men had anything to do with.

"Yagi over there wanted to just throw him in the cell and deal with him and the other guy tomorrow, but I thought we should talk to you first," the large man says. "I mean, odds are they're working together, and with that first guy who took out Sendo and Kiroko, but..."

Kaito purses his lips at the prisoner, then looks up and observes the large man.

"Toriyama, was it?"

The large man stills for a moment, then nods once. Kaito gets that sometimes from people he doesn't speak to very often. It makes his eye twitch a little every time. Do these people really think that after three years, he doesn't know the names of the people working for him?

"Well, you have good judgement," Kaito says pleasently, before his tone turns dark. "Even if you are apparently blind."

Toriyama nods dumbly, needing a moment to process what's been said to him. When he does, he blanches, and shies away from him. Suddenly, the six inches and hundred something pounds he has on Kaito don't seem to mean much to him.

"I- I'm afraid I don't understand, Sir."

Kaito raises an eyebrow. He walks around the table to the other side of their visitor. His fingers run across the hilt of his knife, but only out of habit. That it always makes them sweat is just a bonus. He runs his eyes along the prisoner's inert body, tracing the lines of their arms and legs and torso.

"I don't understand either," Kaito says. "Why do you keep using 'he' to describe what is clearly a woman?"

Whatever response Toriyama had catches in his throat. His partner, Yagi, sucks in a breath from somewhere in the shadows.

"A-  _woman_ , sir?"

Kaito gives no answer, but to glance down at the woman on the table. Toriyama follows his gaze, no doubt taking a much closer look at her, trying to determine that she was indeed female. If he were honest, Kaito would have to admit that he understands how they could have made that mistake. This woman almost completely lacks curves, the swell of her breasts all but invisible beneath dark, loose fitting clothes. What naked skin can be seen covers small but toned muscles and fingers hardened from labor. Her boy cut hair does nothing but encourage the misconception. This woman is anything but vain, whoever she is. It's unfortunate for Toriyama and Yagi, then, that he's already on a roll and can't tell them any of this.

"Forget about it," he says vaguely. Toriyama goes whiter still, if that's possible, and Kaito turns away before he could see if the man can go any paler. "Put her in a cell and leave her for the night. Her  _own_  cell. I don't want her anywhere near the first one, especially if they're working together."

Kaito is gone before they can say, "Yes, Kaito-sama."

**

Haruhi awakens for the second time on a cold ground with no idea how she got there. Unlike the first time, this is no grass to soften it, and when she tries to sit up, pain shoots through sore muscles in her back and shoulders. With a groan, Haruhi tries to rub the aches away while struggling to open her eyes. There is a light shining directly at her face that makes this difficult. She gets herself far enough from it to look around. The firs thing she sees are metal bars.

Haruhi goes to touch them and stops short. She blinks a couple of times, thinking that maybe she's still asleep and just dreaming all of this. There is no way she could have just woken up in a cage. She'd been out in the forest all night last night until she found that wall... and was attacked...

"Oh God." Suddenly, the pain returns full force.

She presses her middle and index finger against her temple, but it provides no relief. Getting to her feet, she sees a number of cages lined up along the walls. Most are empty, except for the one at the very end, where the hunched over silhouette of a heavy set man can be seen, immobile save for the occasional snore. There's no way for Haruhi to tell what time it is or how long she's been out for. All the sunshine tells her is that it's daytime, so at least seven or eight hours have gone by since she was ambushed. Great, now how exactly was she supposed to get out of here?

The door opens up, catching Haruhi's attention. In walks a small man rolling a slightly rusted dinner cart into the room. He was muttering inconsequentially to himself. He undoes a lock on the sleeping man's cell and opens a small, window-like space for slipping food through. He bangs on the bars a couple of times after sealing the hole back up. The caged man screams and shouts frantically. He looks like he has even less of an idea where he is than Haruhi does.

The man rolls the cart to her next. Haruhi tries to catch his eye, but he sticks to his work, unlocking her door, delivering the tray of food, and then re-locking it. He starts to turn away, and Haruhi runs to the cell door.

"Hey!" she calls out. "Where am I? What's going on?"

She pushes her face between the bars until it hurts, but the retreating man never so much as looks back. He leaves as abruptly as he came and Haruhi's many many questions go unanswered. He returns hours later, after Haruhi has walked the perimeter of her five by seven cell at least a thousand times. He has the cart again, with two more plates that can only hold their dinner. Haruhi's stomach is in knots. This all reminds her terribly of her time in captivity, right down to the dirty floors for sleeping and the two meals a day. She can, at least, say that the food here is much better. Her half piece of red apple actually looks and tastes freshly picked. Her 'cellmate' has been mostly quiet, the only times he's spoken being to ask Haruhi what she's in for. He sounds like his throat has been scratched out with sandpaper and Haruhi is glad when he doesn't push for her to answer. Really, he could have the voice of an angel, and she still wouldn't feel like making conversation.

She somehow passes the time until sundown, falling into a fitful, and ultimately restless, sleep. She has no dreams and wakes up the next morning to the sound of rattling on the bars. At first, she thinks it's just the breakfast cart. She'd be kind of happy if it was because her stomach is growling.

The man looking down over his nose at her is not the man from yesterday, and he doesn't have anything resembling food with him. He's a little older, but only by a few years. He has matted light brown hair sticking to his cheeks and a clean-shaven face. He's slightly attractive, but a large nose impedes that. He wears a neatly pressed and washed suit and tie. He'd look very professional if he'd wash his hair a little better.

"Get up," he coldly orders.

A big part of her wants to argue, but there are two other men standing behind the first and they look plenty threatening even before one factors in the enormous firearms they carry. Haruhi's knowledge of guns more or less ends with rifles, but even she knows those things will pack a punch. The man has no need to repeat himself, even though it's clear she takes longer than he would have liked to obey.

The cell door slides open and one of the guardsmen takes her by the arm. The man in the middle withdraws something shiny from his jacket pocket. He makes sure to let Haruhi see them before slapping the cuffs around her wrists. Haruhi is led from holding area. She sees the caged man watching them go, something like sympathy in his gaze when it falls on her.

They walk down the hall in time to another room, this one smaller and colder with concrete walls and not a single window in sight. Tiny bits of glass stick out of the wall where a two way mirror must have been guardsmen go to stand behind it anyway, as the first man leads Haruhi to the sterile table and chairs that are the rooms sole furnishings.

"This place used to be a police station," the man says, as if Haruhi hadn't figured that out a long time ago. "Please, take a seat."

Haruhi glances at the offered chair. It looks clean and sturdy enough, but that's not her problem.

"Could you maybe take these off?"

She clinks her handcuffs together and the man smiles, but it's not a friendly one.

"I'm afraid that's impossible," he answers. "Not until we have an idea of your... threat level, let's say."

"Threat level?" Haruhi repeats in a flat tone. "Listen, I don't even know where I am right now. I was just walking through the forest and these two guys-"

"If I've heard the story correctly, you attacked the two men on guard and then tried to make a break for our borders," the man interrupts, unfazed by the growing incredulity in Haruhi's expression.

"What? They attacked me. Didn't I just say that I don't know where I am? You're making it sound like I was  _trying_  to get in here."

The man shrugs innocuously. "You wouldn't be the first."

He drums his hands on his lap and gets up to walk around the table, eyeing Haruhi like he's a wild predator and she's his next meal.

"I'm sure you've been wondering about the other man we have locked up. He tried to get in here several hours before you. We found him skulking around at the west end trying to scale the wall. Before him, there was another man roughly a week ago. He killed two of our finest men who dedicated their lives to protecting this place. Made widows of their lovely wives. Of course, I'm sure you've heard all of this before. I didn't even have to tell you any of this,  _did I?"_

He gets in really close to her and spits out the final two words, literally, and she doesn't even have her hands to wipe it off. Haruhi backs away as much as she can, an action rendered moot when the men moves off of her and goes back to pacing. Haruhi takes a deep breath to calm herself. Yelling at this guy, no matter how much she wants to, is only bound to make things worse.

She speaks as calmly as she can. "Maybe we should start over. I was in the forest because I'm looking for some friends of mine who I was separated from. I had no idea that there was a settlement nearby. I only fought your men because they attacked me first, and I ran to get away from them. That's all."

The man's face has barely changed since she started talking, giving her a sinking suspicion that he doesn't believe a word of it. The more cynical side of her wonders what she expected.

"And so, your being here has absolutely nothing to do with wanting to cross our boundaries You have nothing to do with the two men who have thus far tried, is that right? Think long and hard before you answer, now."

He's taking on a patronizing tone that sends a flare of indignation through Haruhi's chest. She bites her lip, looks him straight in the eye.

"Yes, that's correct."

The man smiles again, in the exact same way.

"You sound honest," he says. "But that's just not enough for me. Until you can prove that you have no desire to either harm our village or make an attempt on Kaito-sama's life, we have nothing to talk about."

Haruhi springs to her feet, and in her haste forgets about her handcuffs and sways dangerously towards falling sideways. In an oddly helpful act, her interrogate pushes her back upright with a soft hand to the side. Haruhi doesn't thank him.

"You can't keep me here," she tells him.

"Says who?" the man mockingly asks. "The police? We  _are_  the police. I don't think you fully understand the weight of your situation, Miss. Regardless of your intentions, you are a trespasser. We have worked far too hard to keep ourselves safe from bandits and the like, and we are not about to falter just to accommodate you. Kaito-sama's word is law. Until we have determined beyond a shadow of a doubt that you are no threat, you will remain in lock-up."

He nods to the guardsmen, who start to step around the destroyed wall. They, along with their boss are stopped by the sound of Haruhi's voice.

"You keep talking about Kaito-sama," she says, somehow lacking the anger and fear that courses through her veins. "Are you talking about an actual person?"

The man smirks at her while the guardsmen's cheeks puff out, like they are holding back laughter.

"Don't tell me you're a believer in those silly stories," he says, shaking his head like he's talking to a particularly naive child. "Oh yes, we do know about those. Every time we send out scavenging parties, they come back with all new variations to the story, each more fantastic than the last. It's a shame Kaito-sama himself doesn't see the humor in it."

"So," Haruhi begins slowly. "You're telling me that he's real... and this is his town?"

"He's real in the sense that he is a person who has performed some, let's say,  _cathartic_  tasks for us that gained him his authority. If you're talking about those urban legends that he can fly and shoot fire from his eyes, then no. That is children's nonsense."

He snaps his fingers, and the guardsmen take her by the arms.

"Now, I think that's enough idle chit-chat for today. We'll be meeting again tomorrow to see if we can't do any better on the honesty front. Don't think that you're going to get out of this. I can do this every day for weeks on end if I have to. I hope for your sake that you clean up your act a little bit, before someone much scarier than me decides to take a crack at you. I don't believe I've mentioned all the jobs Kaito-sama takes on, from town leader to public speaker to executioner..."

The thinly veiled threat is left hanging there, as the guardsmen half drag Haruhi back into the hallway towards the holding cells. On the day, they past an opening leading to another hall. Haruhi sees many doorways down a lengthy strip. At the very end is a ray of sunlight, and she can hear people talking and children laughing.

Back in the cell, Haruhi waits until the guardsmen leave to stand up. The caged man is happily singing some old children's song to himself in that painfully raspy voice of his. Haruhi goes to the window. It's not very high up, but still too high for her to see through, even on tip-toes. The most she can get is the tops of houses, and they alone look better than any building she's seen since The End. Something flies past her vision, a brightly colored array that resembles a dragon. She sees it again, dancing in the wind, accompanied by a little boy's laughter. A kite?

Some people are talking below her window, something about the crops 'coming in nicely this year,' followed by a joke Haruhi only catches snippets of, because everyone is laughing too hard. They act like they haven't got a care in the world, and the more Haruhi's listens, the more she believes it to be true. Happiness seems to radiate off this place, from the air and the ground and the people. Haruhi thinks that if she tries, she can reach out and touch that happiness, feel it graze her fingertips like a cloth made of velvet, but she'll never be able to grab hold.

**

"She's completely uncooperative so far," the man says, looking out a large window at the people walking home for dinner. He turns away, eyeing Kaito-sama behind his desk with his fingers laced. "She insists that she's not with the rest, just an innocent bystander who happened to find her way here. I don't buy a word of it myself. I may have to try a different tactic tomorrow to get her to talk."

"You're not going to torture the girl," says the woman seated before Kaito. She has her hair in a headband and her hands in her lap. She looks like a perfect lady all women should aspire to be like, but there is a fire in her eyes that only a select few could hope to have. "Kaito-sama would never allow it."

"That was never my plan to start with, Aina," he snaps at her. "Why are you even here? You're not an official, you're just a Doctor."

"If you're planning on giving me a new patient, Uragiru, then it becomes my business."

"I  _said_ , I'm not-"

"Quiet."

Uragiru's mouth clamps shut. Kaito-sama stands up from his desk. Even though they are exactly the same height, Uragiru always feels like a shadow is cast whenever Kaito-sama stands in front of him. He has no hope of escaping.

"Whatever you're doing so far isn't working, that's the first explanation," Kaito says. Uragiru steps out of his way so he can go stand by the window now. Arms behind his back, Kaito fits the troubled leader look to a T. "The other is that she is honest, and she really isn't involved."

Uragiru laughs disbelievingly. Right as he's about to say something to write it off, to dispel Kaito-sama's suspicions and assure him that next time, he will get the right information, Kaito turns and looks him dead in the eye. Uragiru is frozen.

"So far, she's the only one of the two whose talking, even if she's not  _saying_  anything. That's why, I think it's best if I speak to her myself this time."

As much as Uragiru wants, with every fiber of his being, to object and argue and stand his ground that this is  _his_  job and he knows what he's doing, he knows he can't. It's times like this that he wishes his weariness of Kaito-sama went deeper than his fear. One day, it just might, but today, Uragiru is a hard-working, upstanding man subordinate to the law, no matter what kind of world he lives in or who he must answer to. Above all else, he knows his place, and it's right here, holding his tongue, bowing before his superior.

"As you wish, Kaito-sama.

**

The door opens as the sun goes down. Haruhi is in the corner, her legs pulled up to her chest. She's been like this for a while now, counting the bricks on the wall opposite her while her new friend entertains, now with old sea shanties. It's all she can do to distract. The man with the cart ambles over, looking no more interested in his job than he did the day before. He raps on the bars.

"Hey, wakey-wakey, time to eat. You hear me?"

Haruhi shies away from him, covering her face with her arm until he sighs exasperatedly.

"Come on! Would you just get over here and take your food? If you're trying to starve yourself, don't bother. We'll just keep leaving it here until you eat."

"I can't," Haruhi says weakly. "I don't feel good. I think I'm going to be sick."

She makes a retching noise, with a cough mixed in for good measure. The man groans and runs a hand through his hair. He looks all around, from her to the open door and back. Haruhi makes the same noise two more times before she hears many keys jangling together.

"I swear, I don't get paid enough for this," the man mutters. He unlocks the door and slides it open just enough so he can get inside. Haruhi has rolled onto her side, no longer retching but shivering intensely. The man steadily approaches. She can see the shadow of his hands close to touching her.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asks.

Haruhi's response is to flip over and dig her knee into his chest. The man gasps and falls, and with that as her momentum, Haruhi races for the cell door, throwing it open and taking off. The winded man can only watch, eyes bugging out and bloodshot.

"Oh G- BREAKOUT! WE HAVE A BREAKOUT!"

**

Kaito pauses his train of thought. The yelling coming from the jailhouse next door resonates through the half open window. Aina and Uragiru, who have been arguing incessantly about how to properly deal with the prisoners, go blissfully silent as well and look out.

"What's happening?" Aina asks.

Kaito gets up from his chair and follows them. Standing by the window, he can hear it plain as day.

"BREAKOUT!"

He curses.

"You  _idiot,_ " he shouts at Uragiru before stalking out the door.

**

Haruhi never stops running, not even when the man is no longer screaming. It can only mean that he's recovered enough to run after her. More people are shouting now, both inside and outside the building. She can't be bothered to try and hear.

It wasn't an immediate thought, breaking out so early. She had thought to wait a couple more days, see if she can't convince that interrogator that she really doesn't pose a threat so he would release her. It makes about as much sense logically as it makes no sense realistically. Haruhi would have been lawyer once upon a time. She knows how these people work, she's certainly read about it enough. She could never make him listen, and with every day she spent trying, her friend's chances went lower. She doesn't know a thing about that Togawa guy except that he's a smarmy businessman with minimal empathy, and that's good enough for her. This town, no matter how nice and welcoming she thinks it could be, holds nothing for her. She doesn't care about their paranoia or their attempts at a justice system or the fact that the mythical Kaito-sama is apparently real and their leader. The only thing that matters is getting out of this building, hiding out somewhere dark and quiet until morning, and then getting out of here, whatever it takes. Haruhi tells herself she'll find a way. She's done crazier stuff in High School with the Host Club. This is nothing compared to that. That's what she needs to believe above all else.

A few shadows running in front of her stop her in her tracks. To her right is an empty room with a partially open door. Haruhi dives through it without thinking, and is lucky enough to find it empty. She closes the door behind her and presses her ear against it. Footsteps trample on by without a sign of slowing.

"Which one got out?" someone shouts.

"The girl. She played sick and when I checked on her, she jumped me."

"Jesus, what kind of idiot are you to fall for that?"

No retaliation is made and the sounds fade away. Haruhi slowly counts to ten, each number ominously syncing up with her heartbeats. At ten, she throws the door open, and like she never has before in her life, she  _runs._

**

"Whoever you had guarding her, I want him in my office, you understand me?"

"Yes, Kaito-sama, of course. I can't tell you how sorry I am, you have my deepest-"

"Oh, shut up already."

"Kaito-sama! Kaito-sama! We can't find her so far, but we think she's heading for the front entrance."

"Alright good, I'll be right there. If you catch her first, hold her down until I get there. We're going to have a little talk."

"Yes, Kaito-sama.

**

The end of the hall is within reach. Haruhi fills her mind with the beautiful sunlight that burst through it before. It's nighttime now, but Haruhi can see it, clear as her hands in front of her face.

"There she is!"

Haruhi turns her head. The man with the cart is running at full speed. Haruhi goes faster. She feels like her chest is about to rip itself to pieces, but she can't stop now. There's the corner, she's turning it now. The door is in view. She's almost there.

So close now.

So close...

The door opens.

Haruhi screeches to a halt to avoid smacking into it. She really does feel sick now. The man with the cart is gaining on her and her only exit, the one that all her stupid irrational and very much unlike her plans hinged on, is nothing more than a trap. It slams against the wall and allows a man entry. The light of the many lanterns shine on him.

The world stops.

And when the world stops, all sounds vanish.

And when all sounds vanish, Haruhi gains a sort of tunnel vision. Everything else has faded away into nothing, so that there is no man behind her and no one behind him. There are no walls keeping them in or tiny balls of fire to light their way. There is nothing to Haruhi but herself and the man in front of her.

She sees his blond hair, longer than it used to be and tied loosely back and out of his face.

She sees his eyes, blue in his light, but if she looks closer, their true color shines.

She sees a face like the others, sharper and ten years older, but no less familiar; no less handsome than when she knew him last. Though he is currently expressionless, his sparkly eyes and bubbly grin are fresh in her mind like it's only been a day and not a decade since he last stood before her. There had been no joy that day, the day Haruhi always believed to be their last. But it wasn't. She knows that now.

Because now he's here. He's here before her, not a foot away and well within reach. She could touch him if she wanted. She  _wants_  to touch him, so badly it hurts. Just so that she knows this is real and not just a beautiful and cruel dream. That it really is Tamaki Suoh standing before her, and that now they will have many more days together, just as they were meant to.

"It's you," she says. This must be how Kaoru felt that day, when he was at a loss for words before her. "It's you... You're alive."

Just like that, the tunnel vision ends and she can see their surroundings. The interrogator is standing behind him, along with a woman Haruhi has never seen before. She pays them no mind. Not even escaping matters to her anymore. There is only him.

"I can't believe it," she is barely coherent any more, crying more than talking. "I was so afraid that... that you were dead. But..."

Tamaki walks to her, closing the already narrow gap between them. His hand finds her shoulder.

And his knee, her stomach.

Haruhi gasps, louder than the man she attacked had. She falls harder than him too, mostly because Tamaki follows up with a fist to the face. Bones crack, but don't break. Pain explodes regardless and Haruhi sees stars. The next thing she knows, her injured cheek is rubbing cold cement, and then he's on her again. One hand grasps her by the shirt, pulling her up and off her feet with little effort. He holds her a good few inches away from him, eyes piercing her. The recognition Haruhi had only felt moments ago is quite suddenly overshadowed by the lack thereof. There is no warmth in Tamaki's gaze like there used to be. No joy or love or anything but a cold dark nothingness that covers her in ice.

"A word of advice," he says. "Next time you're trying to escape captivity, don't stop to gawk at your pursuers like a fool."

He shoves her back, allowing the man with the cart and another man to take hold of her. Haruhi can't struggle even if she wants to. She's struck dumb and can barely think at all.

"What?" is the only word that can properly form and leave her throat.

Tamaki ignores it and walks with his hands cupped behind his back. It's about now that Haruhi notices the massive knife he's got strapped to him.

"Of course, you're not going to be escaping again, my friend," he says. Like Hunny-senpai, is voice is deeper now, more masculine, and completely unlike him to the point that her head is spinning. "Because your guards are going to be keeping a much closer watch on you from now on,  _aren't they?_ "

He rounds on the interrogator, who shrinks away from Tamaki like he's received a physical slap in the face.

"O-oh yes, yes indeed," the interrogator says. "Absolutely, Sir."

Tamaki gives a low snarl and then looks at Haruhi again. There is nothing familiar about him now, from the way he looks to the way he looks at her. Haruhi's mouth is wide open and nothing will come out, not until he shakes his head and waves dismissively.

"Alright, take her back now, and lock her up."

The two man start to drag her off. Tamaki turns to leave, and Haruhi's mind and body finally kicks into gear.

"Wait!" she screams. She wrenches away from the men, but four more take their place. Holding her at every conceivable angle, Haruhi can do little more than writhe and kick fruitlessly, and keep shouting. "Tamaki, wait! What are you talking about? Don't you recognize me? It's me, Haruhi Fujioka! We went to Ouran together, remember? Tamaki?"

"Who's she talking about?" one of her captors asks another, who shrugs.

Tamaki goes still and is silent for a moment before facing her again. That cold gaze has only become more biting. Haruhi almost can't look at him, because it sends shivers done her spine. For God's sake, what had  _happened_  to him?

" _Fujioka_ , was it?" He couldn't be more bored with her. "I can honestly say I have no idea who you are or what you're talking about. Also, I'd appreciate it if you'd stop calling me 'Tamaki,' that's not my name. For the duration of your stay with us, you will refer to me as Kaito-sama, just like everyone else."

He leaves for real now, there is nothing stopping him. Haruhi's voice has failed her again, and the tumultuous whirlwind going on inside her means that she won't be doing much of anything for some time now. All the strength leaves her body as the man carry her away. She never stops watching him go, until the door slams behind him and the resulting wind knocks out the lanterns one by one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, for such an important chapter, I thought it would be longer.  I mean, it's still over five thousands words, but I'd predicted maybe 6 or 7000.
> 
> Did you guys know I used to struggle to get chapters over 2000 words?  Ah good times, good times...
> 
> And now the truth about Kaito has been revealed!  I'm sure many of you have been wondering why you haven't been seeing Tamaki around.  Well, now you know that you have been all along!  Sort of...
> 
> Now that I think about it, this is only going to raise a lot more questions, but don't worry!  Everything will be answered in due time.
> 
> Part 1 of Fragments has come to a close!  Part 2 will start following a short hiatus (*dodges tomatoes*) during which time I'm going to be finishing up the latest arc of Absolute Ouran, along with planning eventual updates of my other long overdue stories, with a couple of oneshots sprinkled in here and there.  Expect chapter twelve some time in May.  See you then!


	12. Sinking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter alert! Short chapter alert!
> 
> Short, but necessary, as it leads into the next chapter which is going to be much bigger and more eventful, I assure you. Because of this, I decided to hold off on Absolute Ouran until this was posted so I've gotten are the breather stuff out of the way. Also, because a story of mine from another fandom was recently plagiarized and that kind of sent me into a vengencful writing frenzy (steal from ME, will you?) and I wound up updating that story first. Don't worry, the situation has been rectified, and now I am able to concentrate more on my Ouran stories. The next chapter for Absolute Ouran is partially written, so expect to see that soon.
> 
> Until then, I hope you enjoy. Part 2 of Fragments starts NOW.

Aina Kosaka is thirty years old today. She's the only one who knows this, her and her daughter. Most people don't bother to keep track of dates anymore, just Mondays through Sundays. Who knows if that's even completely accurate? Birthdays were never a big deal in her family anyway, being the daughter of a military man who was transferred to a new base every other year. It's hard to make new friends so many times, let alone keep them after you leave. A few gifts and her favorite foods for dinner was all Aina could have hoped for, and that's what she got. These days, she has to count on herself to splurge on extra food. Her one gift is a fresh bouquet of flowers for the table, picked by Junko herself. She comes back more flowers and less dirt every year

She admires herself in the mirror, the morning sun at her back. Aina's not vain, but she can appreciate how soft her skin is and how her nose fits her face perfectly. She really is a young looking woman. She suspects that no one would believe her if she told them her true age. She trims a few split ends and sweeps them into the trash bin. She's kept her short hairstyle from her youth, and it's funny because she always used to hate it, before it became practical. Her mother had the most beautiful long black hair Aina had ever seen and so many brushes to keep it straight and tangle free. Meanwhile, Aina was stuck with short murky brown she inherited from her father. He always used to look like he never washed it. This is why Aina praises the heavens that Junko takes after her Grandmother in that department.

Aina hasn't seen either of them since a year before The End, and in some way, she's glad they didn't live to see it. Her father was prone to paranoia, the kind one could also call cognizant. He slept with a gun in his drawer from the day he was issued one to the day it failed to defend him and his wife from a burglar. It makes her skin crawl to think it would have happened no matter what. She can still remember going home to yellow tape.

Aina pulls back her hair with a headband. It may be short, but it tends to get in her eyes when she's looking down at a patient's wounds. She takes a random one off her colorful and thoroughly washed and re-washed collection. She's wearing her favorite blue shirt today so she doesn't have to worry about coordinating. Junko is already up and at the breakfast table when Aina gets there, a first for her. She usually has to drag the nine year old out by her ankles. At the center of the table are a dozen brand new yellow chrysanthemums. Excess soil is nowhere to be found. Aina pats her daughter on the head.

"How early did you wake up to get these?"

Junko rubs sleep out of her big brown eyes. "I dunno. The sun wasn't up yet."

Aina finishes the head rub with gentle slap. Junko giggles and swats the hand, but Aina's gone out of reach. She starts on the usual: toast with one slab of butter each and fresh milk. Being such a special day, today's meal will also have a special addition.

"Wow, bacon!" Junko says, perking right up.

Aina hides a smile. Ten years ago, she doubts any child would get so excited over two pieces of overcooked bacon. Junko gobbles them down like she's starving and those slightly burned pieces of meat are manna from heaven.

After breakfast, Junko pushes out her chair hard like Aina has always taught her not to do. She winces at the sound, but Junko runs off before she can be properly scolded, so Aina will save it for later. She puts the dishes in the sink and her apron on the hook. Her white lab coat with a little hole in the bottom that once belonged to her favorite uncle goes on. There are two entrances to the kitchen, one that exits into the hall and the other being a door that leads to what was once an assembly room, but is now the place you went to for good health. Aina walks into the makeshift little hospital to find almost everyone is awake and waiting for her. Her part time 'nurses' have handed out breakfast and they bow respectfully to her from right beside her desk.

"Good morning, Dr. Kosaka," they say.

Aina returns their greeting. She goes to her first patient, a middle-aged family man who shattered his wrist trying to build a fence, and begins his checkup.

**

Being a doctor in a post-apocalyptic world is hard. To many, this would be a given. Being a doctor? Just living through an apocalypse is near excruciating. You can't really understand it until you live it. Aina has had many patients with physical injuries that she can treat with splints, bed rest, and a cold pack, but for every one of those, there are so many she can do nothing for. Cancer patients, heart disease, ailments she couldn't possibly fix with what little she has. How did anyone treat these things before modern medicine? Aina wishes so hard that she'd studied those old methods long ago. Every time she has to pull the blankets over another poor soul's face, a little piece of her heart breaks.

Her patients today are not like that, the worst of them just need to stay off their feet for a few more days and stop scratching at their bandages. She changes those of an elderly woman who has a mild concussion. She is thanked kindly. This is the last person she has to see until tonight at dinner. It would be wonderful to spend the hours in between relaxing in her big, cushy armchair with a good book. That's one of the best parts of living in this old town. It is home to a magnificent library that miraculously escaped The End with minimal damage. Aina was not here ten years ago, so she can never know how the old owner managed it, but she silently thanks him for this one little piece of the past that will live on. Her daughter will grow up with the books she did. For her birthday especially, all she wants are these precious few hours of peace where she can forget about the world and visit her old friends between the pages.

She has one more job to do, and it may be the most difficult of them all. She washes up at the well outside, getting rid of the sticky lotion she'd rubbed on her last patients feet for pain relief. It takes two buckets of water, but she gets it all off.

"I'll be heading out," she calls to her nurses inside through the open window. "You two take over until I get back, and watch out for Junko."

She crosses the street and walks three blocks to the jailhouse. Several of those she's successfully treated greet her with a smile and a wave and ask her about her day. Aina has no time for small talk, so she answers that she's doing just fine and politely excuses herself to move on. At the jailhouse, she lets herself in and meets with the receptionist on call. Today it's Masaki-san, a twenty something woman who always looks like she'd rather be somewhere else no matter what she's doing.

"Good afternoon," Aina says with an inclination of her head. "I'm here for the prisoner."

"I know, go ahead," Masaki mumbles, waving her off.

Aina purses her lips, but obeys. She passes Uragiru's office on her way and can't help but slow down and sneak a peek. He's sitting at his desk rolling a pencil back and forth, grumbling nonsense words in that rough voice of his and just generally looking in a foul mood. Whatever Kaito-sama said to him at their meeting this morning, it must not have been good.

Aina's patient is in the cell at the very end of the block. The only other prisoner is asleep, his ragged beard covered in drool that slides out from parted lips as he snores obnoxiously. In contrast, the girl is awake and quiet, curled up under the window and gazing off to the side. She makes no sign that she knows Aina is there, even when she opens the cell door and steps inside without fear.

"It's just me," Aina says, though she doesn't have to. This is the second day she's been to see the woman, two days since her dramatic escape attempt. Ever since then, she hasn't spoken a word to anyone, and no one has been in to see her except Aina and whoever it is that brings them food morning and night. Her breakfast is barely touched at her side, and Aina tsks. "You have to eat, you know."

The woman looks out the corner of her eye at her for only a second, and that's it. Sighing, Aina gets to her knees in front of her and opens her medical bag. The gauze over the woman's bruised cheek is browned and covered in dirt, only a day after she first applied it.

"Didn't I tell you not to lie on that side of your face?"

Aina speaks mostly for her own benefit. The woman's made it pretty clear that she won't talk except on her own terms. Aina just wishes she knew what those terms were. The last time she heard the woman's voice, she'd been saying the strangest things about Kaito-sama. Calling him by a name that wasn't his and claiming to know him. She sounded far too passionate to be lying, and it struck Aina, though she had to feign indifference for his sake. Kaito-sama was such an enigma; Aina could almost believe the woman was telling the truth.

"This is going to sting a little," she says after removing the old gauze. She rubs healing aloe on the bruise and the woman tenses. She lets out a little hiss, the only sound to come out of her at all. Aina cleans up the bits around the bruise and then applies new gauze.

"Do as I tell you this time, or else it'll take longer for it to heal," Aina tells her, tongue between her teeth. "You're just lucky he didn't draw any blood, or else you'd have an infection by now."

 _'I don't have as good a success rate with those,'_ she adds internally, and bites down hard.

Aina checks her stomach next, but only as a precaution. There is no bruise there; Kaito-sama had only winded her. The woman is unbothered by this, though it is technically an invasion of privacy. She never answered yesterday when Aina asked if was okay. Aina goes ahead because it's her job.

"If it makes you feel any better," she says while flattening her shirt back down. "I don't think you're going to be in here much longer. I don't believe you're a threat to us or that you're working with the other. I'm sorry that this had to happen to you."

She packs her bag and leaves the cell. She feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and a chill go through her spine, but when she turns, the woman hasn't moved. Aina gets to the door and then looks back one more time.

"You're going to be interrogated again later, and you'll have to talk to them. I'm sure if you keep telling them the truth, Kaito-sama will let you go."

She nods and heads outside, pulling the door slowly behind her.

"Tamaki."

Aina pauses. The door has shut, cutting off anything the woman might have said next. She anxiously goes for the handle, but stops short of pushing it. Tentatively, Aina presses her ears against the cord, hard metal. It makes her shiver anew, but it's nothing compared to the soft, yet unmistakable sounds of crying inside.

**

"So, Tosugawa said that there was no way I could get the ball back. Origa-san's dog is a big old nasty monster dog who hates everyone, especially kids," Junko says. She pulls strands of too long black hair back into a ponytail that needs resetting. Really, she just needs a haircut, but Junko runs at the mere sight of scissors. Aina's had no luck so far. "And I told him, 'heck yeah, I can do it!'"

"Junko!" Aina snaps. She closes her book and sits up. Kaito-sama's office is the biggest room in the building. It's more like two rooms with a wall taken out. He has his own small collection of books that Aina loves to look through when he's not too busy. They are the only ones around today. All complaints and disputes have been settled for now. Kaito-sama is instead regaled with captivating playground tales, courtesy of Junko. Her daughter sometimes seems to think she's a twenty year old man, rather than a nine, almost ten year old girl. Aina loves her more than life itself, but be damned if that kid's not going to drive her to an early grave one of these days.

"I went right over that fence, and you know what I did next, Kaito-sama?"

She's standing on her chair. Thankfully, it's not the kind with wheels. Kaito watches her over a lowered brow, his elbows up and his fingers laced.

"What did you do next, Junko?"

She pumps a fist in the air. "I got that stupid ball back and I threw it right at Tosugawa's stupid face! He caught it pretty easily, because he is a catcher and all, but you should have seen him. He couldn't believe I'd actually done it."

Junko glows with pride as she finishes her story and sits down. Kaito observes her wordlessly. On the surface, he seems bored, but there is a twinkle in his deep violet eyes that Aina rarely sees. When she does, it's only for them.

"Well, that's nice enough," he says airily. "But why did you stop there? You should really show him up in an actual game. You're pitching today, right? Make it clear that you're not to be trifled with.

Junko shakes her head hard, but she has a wide grin on her face. "The next game's not til tomorrow because Sukiko got grounded. That's when I pitch, and I'll tell you right now, I'm gonna to hand that big jerk his-"

"Junko!"

"Wha-at?" she whines at her mother, arms out.

Aina pinches the bridge of her nose. It looks like she's going to spend her birthday night giving one more lecture about bad language to her daughter. Oh well…

There is a knock on the doorframe; the door itself is open to reveal Uragiru. He looks even less enthused about life than this morning. That and the fact that he shouldn't have finished the interrogation for another hour at least put Aina on edge.

Kaito-sama hardens immediately. "What is it?"

Uragiru steps inside with his hands clasped behind his back. He gives off a dignified air, but Aina knows him better than that.

He first clears his throat.

"I'm afraid that I can't make any progress with the prisoner."

Aina closes her eyes. She still won't talk?

"She says she won't see anyone but you, Sir."

This is met with surprise from everyone but Junko. Now that she's not the center of attention anymore, she's kicking her legs in the air and sighing dramatically. It's almost a blessing when Kaito-sama excuses her to go home, and she runs off to find her friends and maybe practice for that big baseball game of hers.

"Explain," Kaito orders when she's gone.

To his credit, Uragiru doesn't falter under Kaito-sama's accusing gaze. Anyone else would have run. "She will not speak to me, Kaito-sama. I was with her for twenty minutes and she answered none of my questions. She was quite adamant. All she would say was, and I quote, 'I will only speak to your leader and no one else.' End quote."

Kaito considers this. Nothing shows, but Aina can't imagine he isn't affected on the inside. This woman is truly incorrigible.

"You can't get through to her yourself?" he asks.

There's not threat behind it, but Uragiru shrinks back anyway. He shakes his head. Kaito sighs.

"I suppose it would've come to this anyway," he says. "You're dismissed, Uragiru. I'll be there in five minutes to see her."

"Of course, Kaito-sama," Uragiru says. He leaves without delay.

Kaito sits for another few seconds, lost in his thoughts, and then he's up. Aina rises too and gets his coat. She helps him into it, trying to hide her nervousness when he's facing her, but letting it show openly when she's at his back.

"Are you sure about this?" she asks.

"She's just one woman, Aina," he says, halfway out the door. "What can she possibly do?"

He smiles softly, and genuinely. That's another thing no one but her and Junko will ever see, and it's a shame. His normally cold expression seems to glow with new life when he's like this. It's no big secret to anyone that Kaito is an extremely attractive man with features no one else in the town could boast having. Aina can admit this, at least on an aesthetic level. She's never much cared for blondes, honestly. And then there are the things they've been through together that make it impossible for her to ever see him in that light, even if she wanted to.

Aina watches him out the window as he exits the building and marches with purpose to the jailhouse. He may be two floors down, but she can see that he is set back into that untouchable way of his, as cold as ice. Aina raises her head to the sky and prays for the woman inside, who thinks she knows him.


	13. Branded

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm honestly kind of baffled that several reviewers have asked me if Haruhi's cellmate is Kyoya. I don't think I ever did anything to imply that he was...
> 
> Well, he's not, as you will see at the end of this chapter. Kyoya will indeed have a pretty big part in all this, he just has to get there in his own time. I hope you'll all be satisfied with what I have in store for him, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> Oh, and one more thing: I am planning on writing a prequel to this story, detailing everything Tamaki went through to get him to the point he's at now. I don't know when it'll be posted, definitely before this story is completed. When the first chapter is up, I be sure to let you all know.

Ten minutes after the interrogator left, the door opens. A long shadow extends to the table, covering her. She doesn't look up. His cupped hands slide to the middle of the table, into her line of sight. There are visible callouses. So far, no words have been spoken, but the silence is not oppressive. Actually, Haruhi could happily keep it going all night, if only because she's dreading what she's about to face.

"You wanted to see me?"

Haruhi shuts her eyes. He sounds as cool, detached and unlike himself as he did two nights ago. She takes a deep, cleansing breath and lifts her head.

"Hello, Tamaki."

His only reaction is a more pronounced frown. Haruhi's heart started pounding in her ears the second the words were out. His lack of response makes it worse. She feels like a gaping hole is forming in her stomach. He makes to stand.

"If that's all you wanted to say-"

"Wait."

He stops, halfway out of his chair. They stare at each other. He doesn't seem any more willing to look away than she does, but she can't imagine he feels the same anxiety. She has been planning this since that doctor's visit yesterday. In lieu of sleep, she dreamed about what she would say to him and how she would say it. She knew she could get him in to see her if she tried hard enough. That Uragiru fellow didn't like her at all, not that she was fond of him either. She thought he would jump at the chance to pass her off to someone else, and she'd been right. Well, mostly right. He had tried for a little while to get through to her, only to give up after two attempts. He must be so relieved right now.

Haruhi had been too, before Tamaki had actually shown up. Seeing him again brought back everything from two nights ago like furious punches delivered by unforgiving fists. Sunlight streams through the window and bathes him in light. It makes him look bigger, even as he sits down and puts them at relatively equal height. The longer hair hadn't been imagined either. There are little untamed bits framing his face, but mostly it was tied back tight with a plain rubber band. This was the oddest part of his new appearance. The well-groomed Tamaki Suoh she remembers would be appalled if he saw this. Not that the man before he was dirty in any way. Other than the hair, his clothes are clean and properly worn and his face unblemished. He has more mature features, and if nothing else, he has to have retained his popularity with women. Physically, he's been very lucky. Hikaru comes to mind and it shakes her. She pushes it away. She can't afford this right now.

"Well?" Tamaki's voice cuts through her train of thought. Haruhi realizes now that she's been staring.

"I wanted to tell you a story," she says. She keeps completely even in her words and her posture, so there can't possibly be anything upsetting enough that he would leave her.

"A  _story_ ," he repeats flatly.

Haruhi doesn't falter. "You may already know it. It's about a private school for rich kids. There were a group of students who formed a Host Club, and they would entertain the girls who came to visit them, all in their own different ways."

His eyebrows went all the way up when she mentioned the Host Club, but otherwise, he is still.

"What most people didn't know was that one of the members was actually a girl. She was the only student not from a wealthy family. She got in on a scholarship, and she had joined the club after accidentally breaking an antique vase worth eight million yen."

Tamaki whistles.

"But what I really want to talk about is the Club's president."

Haruhi pauses to breathe, and quickly regrets it. Tamaki's face turns stony and he rolls his eyes contemptuously.

"Let me guess, his name was  _Tamaki_ , right?"

Haruhi's toes curl from the harshness in his tone. The way he says his own name, like it means nothing, makes her throat feel like it's constricting, in the worst possible way. He might as well have just choked her.

"He started the club," Haruhi goes on. She will not let him push her down. "He was the son of the school's chairman and he'd spent the first years of his life in France with his mother. His parents couldn't marry because of his mother's health and because his Grandmother wouldn't allow it. She made him move to Japan so he might become the heir to his family's fortune. He started the club because-"

"What do you plan to accomplish with this?"

The interruption came as a surprise when it shouldn't have. Haruhi blinks at the floor, and know immediately why she didn't see it coming: she had stupidly looked away from him. Worse yet, she had looked  _down_  at the _floor_. How much more weak-willed could you get than that? He's leaning back now, glancing above her every now and then for no reason, and Haruhi wonders if there's a clock up there somewhere that she's missed.

"I just think you should hear this," she answers.

"Right, because you think I'm this Tamaki guy of yours," he says. Then he places his hands in his lap and stands up. He walks around the table, spending much more time behind her than in front. Haruhi makes sure to meet his eyes whenever she can, even as he continues talking. "I guess you're thinking you can recite random facts at me until something rings a bell. I'm sorry I interrupted, by the way. Why don't you tell me his shoe size next?"

On the seventh lap, he breaks pattern by walking ahead of her. His hands are clasped behind his back, accentuating his broad shoulders and the all too assured way he carries himself. The sunlight shines against the metal strapped to his back. Haruhi's heart beats faster. She thinks it's a sword at first, but it's too small and not shaped right (as far as she knows). However, it's too big to be a knife. Just seeing it bothers her, whatever it is. Tamaki must notice her whitening skin out the corner of his eye. He turns his head, curiosity piqued.

"What now?" he asks- more like demands really. When Haruhi doesn't answer, but to flick her gaze one more involuntary time the blade's way, Tamaki's eyes widen. "Oh, so you like it?"

He reaches over his shoulder to pull the blade from its sheath. It looks somehow bigger now that she can see it with her own eyes.

"It's a machete," he tells her. He expertly waves it through the air above her head; the light gleaming off of it leaves her momentarily blinded. Her eyes clear just in time for her to see the eerie smile spreading across his face. "Do you want to know how I got it? Or how to use it? Or how many throats I've slit with it?"

Haruhi swallows.  _'He's bluffing,'_  she tells her herself.  _'He's bluffing, he's bluffing, he's bluffing.'_

Tamaki purses his lips and lowers the weapon. "Hm… I didn't think so."

He returns it to its proper place. Haruhi almost sighs with relief, and though she doesn't, he looks decidedly smug.

"Look, we can keep playing this game all day long, and we won't get anywhere." He goes back to sitting- lounging really- with his legs crossed over each other. His hand on his chin, he studies her wordlessly, for enough time that Haruhi's steel resolve starts to crack. It's not so much the hardness of the eyes on her. Like always, it's just that it's Tamaki.

"How long did I supposedly live in France?" he asks suddenly.

"Fourteen years," says Haruhi at once. "You were born there."

He snorts. "I was born and raised in a country I've never been to. I see."

"I  _know_  that it's you, Tamaki. I don't know what's happened to you, but-"

" _Nothing_  has happened to me," he says, his voice going dangerously low. "Nothing at all, Fujioka, because I  _don't_  know you."

Haruhi bites her tongue. What she wants to say, she can't say, because there is too much at risk right now and she won't give him any reason to leave her. She has a feeling the silent treatment won't work so well next time.

Tamaki throws away all intimidation now, thankfully. His face and body language soften, though Haruhi remains on edge.

He leans in close. "Moving on to matters of actual import, I think it's clear you're not working with the others. You're the third person in a little over a week to try and break in, including your cellmate back there. The first one killed the two men on guard, and the second injured another. You, on the other hand, don't lay a finger on anyone unprovoked. And then, of course, there's you little problem with delusions."

"I didn't want to hurt anyone," Haruhi says, choosing to ignore that last part for now. "I just wanted to go."

There is a pregnant pause.

"Is that so?" Tamaki asks, smirking slightly. He gets back up, and stands still behind his chair, looking down on her. Haruhi is quickly coming to hate that. "I want you to understand how imperative it is that we stay safe. As far as I know, this town is the only one left with anything resembling luxury. The wall surrounding us was there already, but over the years, we've fortified it. We do whatever is necessary to keep out bandits and other unsavory folk. There was a time when visitors were allowed in. Needless to say, that time has passed."

He waits for all that to sink in, and then continues.

"I recommend you behave for the next few days, Fujioka. Stay in your cell, do what Dr. Kosaka tells you, and eat the food you're given. If you continue to spit on our generosity by refusing it, I can easy oblige you and tell them to stop sending it."

He starts to walk away, but Haruhi isn't ready for him to leave yet. Not by a long shot. She has no idea what to say, though. Everything she'd planned and rehearsed, he cut down before it even got out of her mouth. Little by little, negativity eats away at her. How can this possibly be him? Tamaki would have never acted this way. That's where Haruhi leaves it. She knows how that thought is going to end and she will erect a brick wall in her mind if it means keeping it at bay. No matter how he acts or what he calls himself, his is a face permanently imprinted in her mind, every inch of it.

It just _has_  to be him.

"Tamaki," Haruhi whispers. She's not exactly calling out to him, but he hears it anyway.

"And that's another thing," he says, turning around. He looks at her with that freezing gaze again. "My name is Kaito, understand? Not Tamaki, Kaito. Kaito-sama to you."

Haruhi meets him with all the stoicism she can muster. He will not get to her.

"I'm not finished yet," she says.

"We'll see."

Haruhi doesn't watch him go.

**

Back at her cell, Haruhi lays flat on the ground, on her uninjured cheek. Her time is spent rolling around a circular gray stone she's found. She flicks it too hard and it flies through the bars and into the next, darkened cell. She hears it clatter to a stop as she rolls over onto her back. The moon is out again, but the sky is not as pitch black as should be. Something crackles outside and when she concentrates, she hears talking right out the window as the steadily thickening coil of smoke rises to the sky.

A bonfire, huh? The last time Haruhi saw one of those, it was during her summer stay in Karuizawa. Tamaki had suggested it…

Haruhi closes her eyes. Sleep won't come, but it's easier for her to see things other than his face when there is no light. It's not late enough for that anyway, unfortunately. She's pretty sure dinner is about to be delivered, unless Tamaki has chosen to make good on his 'promise' to bar her from it. A darkly humorous part of her thinks she's going to get nothing but a steaming cup of instant coffee. Then Tamaki will burst into the room, stars in his eyes and squealing exuberantly as he pulls her into his arms and tells her it's all been just an awful prank and that he's missed her so much and will never let her go or get hurt again.

Hell, maybe she will fall asleep, and wake up in the Third Music Room, still sixteen years old and with the last ten years having been nothing but a vivid dream. Everything and everyone in her life would be safe and sane and completely whole.

Wouldn't it be nice?

The food cart arrives. There is only one tray, and two men Haruhi has never seen before follow on its tail. Haruhi sits up abruptly, but then the man with the food makes a beeline for her, while his companions open the cage and pull out the bearded man. For once, he is fully conscious, and completely silent. The man with the foot cart is the same one Haruhi attacked. He doesn't look worse for the wear, but he gives Haruhi a hateful glare and kicks the food tray at her. A few loose bits of sliced apple fall into the dirt. Haruhi isn't concerned, about that or him. She watches the bearded man get pulled into a standing position and led out the door. It looks like it's finally his turn to be questioned. What took them so long?

Haruhi picks at her food. There is a pile of blackberries mixed in with what remains of the apple. A pretty meager fruit salad, but Haruhi's stomach is growling. The first bite proves to be fresh. It reminds Haruhi of how long it's been since she ate anything so good (or at all) and she devours it like a ravenous animal. Her stomach whines a little more when it's all gone. She kicks the dirt covered bit of apple away before she gets that desperate.

It's been a while since they took the other guy; an hour perhaps, maybe more. The solitude is in equal parts soothing and suffocating. She has all the time she needs to reflect, which would be great if she actually wanted to. It gets to the point where she almost misses that man and his disjointed ramblings waking her up all night. It must be fun trying to get answers from him.

A door slams in the distance, but that doesn't alarm her. Little sounds like that -voices, footsteps, the occasional banging- they're not uncommon. Knowing that it's from people who seem really, truly happy with their lives is a comforting thought. It would be even better if she could join them, her and all of her loved ones: happy, sane and whole.

Following the door, there are voices. Both are male and they are getting too loud too fast. They're arguing about something, Haruhi realizes with a frown. What a way to kill the mood.

There might be another man with them, but if there is, he's too quiet for her to make out properly, or even be sure that he's real at all. What little is clear to her is cryptic at best. Phrases like, 'unreal,' 'should have used the light,' and 'you're right about that at least,' mean nothing to her. Regardless, the way their words morph into startled cries and something like a gunshot cracks in the air tell Haruhi everything she needs to know. They start shouting.

"Dammit, not again!" someone says near her door.

A crazed laugh precedes an anguished scream and then several sickening thuds on the brick wall. Someone else starts yelling, heavy with expletives and then there is another shot fired. A single name is called over and over again. Haruhi strains to make it out while trying to push her face through the bars. It's not clear to her how she came be standing here when she could've sworn she was sitting a moment ago. The pounding of blood in her ears is making everything a little unclear. Outside, there is more laughter, and voices that are getting louder, and closer, and angrier. Someone else screams in pain, another person curses. A newcomer approaches now, and the ceasing of his steps coincides with that horrible laughter cutting off. It is replaced by choking.

The door is thrown open.

Haruhi backs away as her cellmate is thrown into the middle of the room before her. He is more awake and alert than ever. He crawls backwards on his behind, palming sharp stone and shards of broken glass that cut into his skin and leave a trail of blood. It's nothing compared to the amount soaking his shirt and face. His breaths are shallow. An odd laugh slips free more than once, even though it's clear nothing is funny to him anymore. Looking at the man bearing down on him, Haruhi can't blame him, and she is just as terrified.

Tamaki is stone-faced, even those eyes of his say nothing. He needs no more than two strides of his long legs to get to the man, and corner him completely. As if he needed any more help in that, four or five men arrive to flank him. One is also covered in blood, but Haruhi doubts it's his and unlike Tamaki, he wears his rage on his sleeves, and in the angry tears slipping passed his cheeks.

The bearded man looks out at all of them, a maniacal grin frozen on his face. Tamaki has his machete in hand and it is brilliant, even in the growing darkness.

"I hope you realize what you've just done."

His words are low enough to be a whisper, and full of terrible promise. Haruhi has to force herself not to look away, and her struggle goes unnoticed by all.

"Hehehehehe…" the bearded man can't seem to stop himself anymore. "Hehehe- you're fun. You're really fun. I've had fun today."

He continues chortling pathetically, and puts his hands on his head, pulling at wispy hair like he's trying to rip his scalp in half. If possible, Tamaki's eyes go smaller.

"He might not make it," he says. "Those wounds were deep."

"Real deep," the bearded agrees. "Yeah… last guy I did that to didn't last an hour. And if you think that's bad… just wait 'til Ryuuga gets ahold of you, Kaito-sama."

Tamaki hums. "Funny. That's the most you've said all day."

"I don't like to talk," the man violently shakes his head. "Too hard… too much thinking. I just like to _do_ , you know?"

He carelessly laughs a little longer, but it finally dies away when Tamaki lifts the blade to his face. Haruhi's breathing stops.

"H-hey there!" the bearded man says. "Why're ya doing that?"

Tamaki doesn't answer. A few of the men nod at him in anticipation. The one with the blood on him smiles for the very first time.

"Come on! Come on, we're having fun here, aren't we? I didn't mean to hurt that guy, he just got in my way! Can't we talk? I- I didn't mean it, really!"

"I know," Tamaki says with finality. "I understand  _perfectly_."

The bearded man's next plea comes out as a gurgle. The blade penetrates his neck and digs deep, deep down until the point comes out the other way. Blood spurts out all over the place, showering Tamaki's front and most of his neck in deep red. Another few drops ricochet onto his chin. He seems to notice none of this. He withdraws the knife and flicks spare droplets into the air. The bearded man falls on his shoulder, life blood pouring from his wound in both directions.

"Just… you wait…" he rasps. "Ryuuga will… get… you… kill… you…"

He falls silent and still, and then it's over. Haruhi breathes in; it like the first breath she's ever taken. Her whole body is shaking with adrenaline. It's all she can do to keep filling and emptying her lungs until it stops. Meanwhile, Tamaki still holds his knife aloft. He examines the stains distastefully.

"Now I'll have to clean it again," he says.

He wipes off a little more with his glove before putting it away. His men surround the body. The bearded man is carried off like a sack of garbage. The bloodied man is the last to leave, and he bows to Tamaki first, murmuring a thank you. Soon, it's just her and Tamaki, but he doesn't appear to have stayed behind for her. He only addresses her when he's at the door.

"Looks like you have your own room now, Fujioka," he says.

Haruhi opens her mouth. She has no words, and what comes out is more like a cry or a gasp. Tamaki turns around, growling in annoyance.

"What is it?"

Some of that horrible ice has melted off, but she still can't stand to have him look at her this way. There is no point in denying anymore that she's afraid. Afraid of him. It's as painful as it is true.

He starts walking- back to her. Haruhi's good sense screams at her to get as far away as she can. She doesn't listen to it. Alone and behind bars, there is nowhere she can go anyway. He stops and leans over, hands on the bars. His lips curve up with a little teeth showing, and it makes them look sharp. He must be enjoying this.

"Let me guess," he says silkily. "Tamaki would  _never_  have done this."

Haruhi cannot answer that, and he probably doesn't want her to. He waits all of three seconds before moving. Walking away, he stretches his arms all the way out in different directions.

"But I suppose it's for the best that you saw that," he says amid relaxed sighs. "Hopefully it's enough to disillusion you."

Haruhi closes her eyes. She wants him to leave now, and if she can't say it, she'll make him  _feel_  it as much as possible. After what just happened, it would be so nice to believe him, to believe that he is right and she is wrong. He's not Tamaki, he never was. He's just some monstrous stranger with his face and she's been too long living with only her memories of him to know the difference. She clings onto a fantasy so she can believe that he's still alive. It's a miserable thought that gives her solace all the same.

His vicious little smile has lost most of its bite by the time he leaves. He must be bored already. Tamaki- Kaito- whoever he is, he takes his leave now. He has his hair up again, as Haruhi sees when his back is to her. It's gathered at the nape and shows the bare expanse of his neck, the only clean bit of naked skin left. Nothing mars it except a little, circular dot that is too dark in color to be blood. Haruhi zeros in on it, her stomach going tight as if an ice cold hand is twisting it around.

_"Sorry, Senpai. There's a little bit left on your neck that won't come off."_

_"That must be my birthmark you're scrubbing at. It's definitely not chocolate."_

_"Oh, I never noticed that before."_

_"Really? I've always had it."_

So then it's true.

She was right.

He was wrong.

 _Tamaki_  leaves her alone in this cell.  _Tamaki_  speaks to a man outside the door and tells him to stand guard just in case.  _Tamaki_  stood before her not one minute ago and once again denied his true name.

 _Tamaki_  just killed a man without remorse while she watched.

Haruhi's whole body weakens. It's becoming depressingly common, but there is nothing she can do about it. She lets herself fall and lay down. There is no more singing to disturb her sleep. Maybe she'll get a full night's rest tonight.

Maybe her wish will come true, and she'll wake up in the Third Music Room again, with all of them standing around her like the wonderful idiots they used to be, and this will all have just been a horrible,  _horrible_  dream.

**

The man behind the desk runs a little shop in a rotting building along a destroyed strip of buildings. Despite all of that, they are somehow still inhabited, and so here he is. Calling what he has a 'shop' isn't really accurate since he never makes any money, but who does anymore? The most he hopes for is bartering, or another lucky find on one of his scavenging expeditions. Sometimes, people come with a specific need or purpose in mind, they just want someone to talk to. That's what he thought about his latest visitor at first, because he had nothing in his hands except a neatly folded piece of white paper.

The man examines the drawing. It's not really the best way to go about searching for someone, but he can't hold it against this guy. It's the only way these days. At least there are distinctive features in this sketch. It helps him pinpoint exactly how much he can help his visitor.

"I've never seen this guy before in my life," he says, passing the picture back. "The most I can do for you is give you some beans for the road. I found a proverbial treasure trove of canned goods the other day in somebody's bomb shelter. Most of it was still good too."

The visitor's one eye blinks at him. He folds the paper along the creases until it's the size of a matchbox. He slides it back in his pocket.

"You're absolutely certain?" he asks neutrally.

 _'He's definitely done this before,'_  the man thinks. Honestly, he'd like this guy to leave now. As a rule, he never trusts anyone with parts missing, even if it's just an eye. They must have crossed somebody to get that kind of treatment. That's the last thing the man needs in his shop, to be associated with some troublemaker, even if just for a few seconds of one day.

"I'm sure," he answers, and nods once as a way to dismiss him without actually saying anything that rude. The visitor understands perfectly.

Somehow, though, the man is curious.

"Why are you trying to find him anyway?"

The visitor doesn't stop or turn back around. He's finished his business here and now it's useless to him. The man knows the type; he's never liked them either.

"It's extremely important that I find him as soon as possible," the visitor answers vaguely. "He's an old friend of mine."


	14. Invasion

Kaito’s day starts as normal: he wakes up, he gets dressed, he goes for a walk.  He greets friends, he greets acquaintances, he greets unnecessarily giggly teenage girls, he greets Aina.

In an hour’s time, he’s back at the office, and the day starts proper.  There is a list of tasks waiting for him on his desk.  It’s fairly short.  On good days, he’ll get maybe two or three less complaints and requests than this.  It’s not that he doesn’t care, just that he appreciates solitude, what little he gets.  That’s the price of being a leader: everything is your problem and nothing is easy.  Aina once suggested he appoint a second to take on some of the workload, a ‘vice-president’ of sorts.  Kaito toyed with the idea for a while, only to toss it aside when it became clear that the only person around with the right qualifications and experience was Uragiru.  Kaito would sooner take Junko than that fool.

He reads the list of today’s issues.  It’s nothing out of the ordinary.  He recently helped settle a property dispute and the parties involved would be coming by to hammer out the final details.  It would mostly be a lot of talking since official documentation didn't have quite the same meaning anymore.  Other than that, he’d have to go and inspect the food stores for security issues and rendezvous with those in charge to hear the daily report.  If the need arose, he’d head over to the Basement when all was said and done to unwind a little.  He should be finished just in time to wash up for dinner with Aina and Junko-chan.  Tomorrow would be more of the same.

After three years, Kaito has gotten used to the routine.  He doesn’t even need an alarm clock to wake up at just the right time.  He knows all the people in town, if not by name then by face.  Even when there are complaints or altercations between neighbors, he knows how to deal with it.  It’s always just little things, minor infractions like this.  Sometimes, people forget what kind of world they’re living in.  The frivolous luxuries of olden times are dead and gone; survival and practicality are key.  With every passing year, the illusions they keep up dislodge a little more, but the people still cling to them.  Perhaps it’s how they cope.  If so, Kaito would prefer if they tried something a little more productive than complaining to him about a patch of grass his neighbor stepedp on without permission.  He worries sometimes that they’ll never let go. 

It’s especially irritating on days like today, when he has so much more to worry about.  Three people have broken the border in less than a week.  That’s more than the entire course of the last three years combined, and though only two of them were a threat and both were dead by his hand, dread still coiled in his stomach at the thought of them.  That last one in particular, and his rather foreboding final words.

Ryuuga.  The name had passed the man’s lips with a sense of reverence, to the point that Kaito had to wonder if 'Ryuuga' was an actual person and not just figment of the man’s deranged imagination.  He would have loved to dismiss it as exactly that, but his position and responsibilities won't allow it.

Kaito stands before the window.  He wonders sometimes if the political figure who once had this office used to do the same, looking down on the people he lead. Their faces, happy and sad, calm and nervous, tell a million stories.  What would he do if any of them came to harm because he went soft?  What if the next breach is more than just a single man?  There are things he is not willing to put these people through again, things the children like Junko would be old enough to remember this time.

He’s going to have to start making plans.  He’ll gather together all capable men and women to help fortify the walls.  If need be, they will teach those who can't.  He will send out more hunting and scavenging parties, to find both weapons and medical supplies for Aina.  Finding some penicillin or pain killers in some broken down clinic was bound to bring a smile to her face.  If anyone else found their way in, he would jump straight to interrogation himself, maybe teach Uragiru a thing or two about how to do it  _right_.  These were all things he would have to plan out, and to do that, he would need a lot of time and zero distractions.  That is where the problem lies.

Because he  _is_  distracted, he has been since he woke up this morning after a night of dreaming about it.  He tries all he can, but his thoughts always go back to her.

He closes his eyes and sees her brown ones, large and brimming with tears.  He sees her pain and betrayal.  He opens them again and sees her lip quivering as she holds the bars of her cell in a death grip and refuses to look away.  She seems to speak with her eyes: emotion no amount of words could ever impart .  Her voice rattles in his ears, strong in some places, wavering in others, but always assured and always honest.

Yes, he believes that she’s being honest when she calls him by the wrong name and tells him of a history that isn’t his.  He believes that she believes he is her friend, and in a way, he pities her.  He had to break her last night, shatter her dreams.  He thinks she may have loved that boy of hers, even if she doesn’t say it.  Maybe she doesn’t realize it herself, she seems like the type.

And why, after all that and all that he’s done to push her down, does she keep invading his thoughts?  Now, when he needs it the least?

It’s a question that is still on his mind when the sun goes down and the moon comes out, and he’s standing at Aina’s doorstep waiting for Junko to run and let him in like she always does.  Within seconds, she’s outside and squeezing him around the waist.

“Nii-san!  You made it!” she cheers.

Kaito quirks a smile for her benefit.  He pats her on the head and walks through the door without a word.  Aina is in the kitchen waiting for them, and dinner is on the table.  It’s venison tonight.  The last hunting party brought home a real bounty this time.  The delicious scent caresses his nostrils; he just wishes he were in a better state to enjoy it.

“Nice flowers,” he says, gesturing with his chin at the bright yellow bouquet on the table.

“Thanks,” Aina says over her shoulder as she pulls three glasses from the top cabinet.  “Junko brought them in for me yesterday morning.”

“It was mom’s birthday,” the girl explains.

She is immediately shushed by her mother, but Kaito has already heard.  He looks at Aina with disbelief, as if expecting her to have aged several years in the moments since he last looked at her.  She’s a little flushed and avoiding eye contact, instead coughing into her hand and calling everyone to dinner.  Junko immediately forgets everything that doesn’t have to do with food.

“Come sit next to me,” she says as she pulls him with both hands to the table.  Kaito takes the offered seat, it’s the same one he sits at every time he comes over, but Junko always wants to go through the steps. 

She brushes hair out of her face before taking the first bite of her food.  Some of it gets in her mouth anyway.  Aina once asked him to try and convince the girl to get a haircut, after spending the last few minutes venting on the subject.  He had tried for her sake, but in the end, not even Junko’s little girl crush was enough to get her to part with her much too long hair. 

“You should have seen me at the ballgame, Kaito-sama!  We totally kicked the other team’s butt.”

Aina looks up warningly.  “Junko…”

“What?” Junko says.  “I said ‘butt’ not ‘ass’.”

Aina sighs and Kaito feels a laugh welling up that he holds back.  He’d hate to usurp Aina’s authority in any way. 

They get through dinner entertained by Junko’s stories, until she finishes her food completely puckered out and gets up. 

“May I be excused?” 

Aina nods and motions at the sink, where Junko obediently drops her plate.  She scrambles out of the kitchen, only to double back at the last second and give Kaito a peck on the cheek. 

“Goodnight!”

She leaves without another word.  When her door closes, that’s Aina’s cue to go to the secret cabinet.  It's secret only in name, left in plain view of Junko, who has never and will never see what's inside if Aina has anything to say about it.  She unlocks the combination padlock and pulls forth from it a half full bottle of wine.  Katio perks up a little at the sight, Aina rarely brings it out unless it’s a special occasion, or she just thinks he needs a pick-me-up.  She pours them each a glass, hers is noticeably less full.

“You never mentioned it was your birthday,” Kaito says.

Aina pauses for a moment, then goes ahead and takes a drink.  She winces slightly.  Kaito doubts she going to answer, he's not even sure why he asked.

“I’m thinking of sending out another scavenging party,” he says with the glass to his lips.  He takes a long sip before continuing.  “It would be good to have some extra supplies, maybe even more medicine.”

“The last one only just came back,” she reminds him.

“It might be necessary,” he answers.

Aina looks down at her glass.  She’s only had two sips, but it’s mostly empty and her nose crinkles from the smell.  She was never one for alcohol. 

“We  _could_  use some more gauze,” she says thoughtfully before backtracking.  “I mean, we’re not running out, it’s just good to always have reserve on hand.”

Kaito says nothing, but silently agrees.  She gives him a withering look, one he knows all too well.

"Are you worried?"

Kaito blinks, then gives a tiny chuckle. "About what?  That man?"

Aina just looks at him, waiting.

"He was insane," Kaito continues.  "Whoever he was talking about- Ryuuga or whatever- that person probably doesn't exist."

Aina bite her lips, fingers curling together as she looks down at the floor.  "I know, it's just..."

Kaito draws himself a little closer, slowly so not to scare her.  

"Just what?"

Aina takes in a long breath. "Nothing.  I just want you to be  _absolutely_  sure.  You know what we've had to deal with in the past."

Whatever Aina had been saying before, it was definitely  _not_  nothing, and the fact that she'd covered it up so poorly is setting off bells in Kaito's head like nothing else.  He won't push for information, much as he wants to.  Aina is a very closed off woman, and that she ever lets him in at all is a feat.  Whatever it is, he'll let her tell him in her own time, and for now, he'll stick to what's important, as she will.

He places a hand over hers, letting the thick leather of his gloves warm her bare skin.  His old friend draws herself up again, face dry and even.

"You know I won't let that happen," he says softly.  "I can't.  How could I ever face Yoikagi in the after life if I did?"

Aina smiles, though Kaito doesn't know how real it is.

"Well, for now I think we have other matters to discuss," she says. There's that look again.  Kaito knows right away where this is going and it makes him want to get up and leave.  "What are you going to do with her, Kaito-sama?"

Damn it, he was just starting to forget about her too.  Now she's back full force, all brown eyes and hurt faces and rage and pain lying behind a gaze that makes his stomach twist, all for no goddamn reason.

"Her?" he coyly asks without thinking it through.  Aina's answering frown feels rather like he's being stripped naked.

"You know what I'm talking about," she says.  "And you know she's not with them, otherwise she'd be a corpse in a hole by now.  You can't hold off on this any longer."

 _'You're such a mother, Aina,'_ Kaito thinks.  He'd say it out loud, but now isn't the time for jokes.  He takes his glass in hand, the remainder of his drink swishing around at the sides.  

"I know..."

Aina gives an approving nod and laces her fingers together.  Oh yes, very much a mother.  

"So what are you going to do?" she asks.

Kaito downs the rest of his drink in one gulp.

**  
It's past midnight when he gets to the jailhouse.  Not even leaving early could stop him from taking the long route, reflecting on the past few days and thinking about what he was about to do.  He doesn't doubt that Fujioka will try and play games with him again, which might also account for his slowness.  If she's asleep when he gets there, all he'll have to do is carry her out.  She'd be none the wiser.  No arguments, no resistance, no  _talking_.

That would be very sweet indeed.

He walks in and comes face to face with her.  She's sitting against the wall, knees drawn up, eyes open and on him.  He lets the door slam behind him with a loud crack that doesn't faze her.  Kaito purses his lips.  She's a hard woman to break, he'll give her that.

"Still awake?" he asks, his voice echoing around the room.  It's much quieter in here than he remembers.  "Makes me think you were expecting someone."

She says nothing and her stance doesn't falter.  Only when he gets closer does she move to stand in front of the bars and watch him more intently.  Her gaze searches his, and he inwardly smiles because she's not going to find anything she's looking for.

"Must be uncomfortable in there," he says, glancing down at the dirty stone floor.  She herself is covered in all manner of dirt and grime.  

Kaito reaches into his pocket.  Fujioka tenses up but he withdraws only a silvery key.  He unlocks the cell door and slides it open; never once does she look at his hands.

"Come on," he says, but she doesn't obey.

"What is this?" she asks.  Kaito is definitely not relieved that she's talking.

"What do you think it is?  You're not a bandit, so there's no reason to keep you here anymore.  We're going to the town hall, where I live."

He starts walking out, slowly, because he doesn't hear her following.  He looks over his shoulder, she hasn't even stepped out of the cell yet.  Her eyes have gone wide and her mouth is open.  It's the most vulnerable he's ever seen her and he has no idea how to feel about it, other than a great deal of impatience.

"Your other option is to stay in the cell," he says.  "Take your pick."

She seems to consider this, then she's tentatively moving after him.  She stays a good five steps behind him from there, all the way to the lobby of the town hall next door.  Everyone has long since gone home, including most of the night shift workers. It's just them here with enormous windows and high ceilings galore.  After so much time in a cramped cell, this must be disorienting for her. Even he gets a little dizzy sometimes.

"So now what?"

Her voice brings him back to reality.  He looks down at her, but she's moved in front of him now.  She's examining her surroundings, not touching anything, but not apprehensive either.  She has her hands in her pockets, heedless of the dirt coating her fingers, and is almost  _casual_  in her demeanor.  The last time Kaito saw her, she looked ready to burst into tears at a mere word.  She must have had a lot of time to think things over, and he can't be sure if she's really gotten over it or if she's just a really good actress.

"That's up to you," he says, calling her bluff.  "Personally, I don't care what you do, which is why I'm offering you a choice."

He closes some of the distance between them.  She has to crane her neck all the way up to see his face.

"I can have a room made up for you, and you can stay a while," he starts to say. As he goes on, his words take on a darker, more threatening tone.  "If you don't want that, I can have you escorted outside the wall at sunrise, and no one will get in your way or try to attack you.  You can leave in peace."  He bends low over her.  "Just know this: if you choose to leave, that's the end of it.  I  _never_  want to see your face again."

She doesn't shrink under his scrutinizing gaze, but he can see the faint sheen of sweat hovering above her brow.  It fills him with satisfaction.  So she isn't as impenetrable as she pretends.  Did she ever think she could trick him for long?  She can't even stand her ground anymore, as Kaito sees when she turns on a heel and shambles toward the door.  He almost thinks she might walk right out into the darkness.  It's not definite that he would go after her if she did, but then she turns again.

"I think I'll stay," she says, strong in a way that goes against the wobbling of her eyes.  "For a while at least."

Kaito nods.  "I take it this isn't an easy choice for you."

A tiny smile flashes, so fast Kaito almost didn't see it.  

"I have friends on the outside," she explains.  "I need to find them again, but I can't leave either.  Not like this."

"You think they can hold out without you?" he asks persuasively.  Somehow, he's not surprised when it doesn't work.

"As long as they're all together, they can do anything."

She walks passed him to the long staircase, and waits on the first step for him to come and lead her upstairs.  They go all the way up to the third floor.  Kaito has done this a million times before, but he can hear her breathing getting heavy.  At the top of the floor are two endless lines of doors. Most of the rooms are empty, both of people and furnishings.  All the offices are on the second floor.  Kaito's is just below his bedroom. It's three doors down on the right. Her room is right beside it, four doors down.  There is just one little problem, and he can't wait to tell her what it is.

He stops in front of his door, pushing it open.  Haruhi leans over to look inside, her brow furrowed.  She takes in the sparse furniture: a couch, a night stand, a bed, a bookcase.   The closet is open on the opposite wall, but it's too dark to see inside.  The colors are mostly muted blues, greys and browns, and there is the distinct 'lived in' feel to the place that any good home should have.

"This is your room," she says.

Kaito's eyebrows go up as if to mock her.

"Really?" he says.

She eyes him suspiciously.

"I suppose I should have explained," he says.  "The maids have all gone home for the night, your room won't be ready for you until tomorrow. So unless you want to go and sleep on the floor, you are welcome to spend the night."

He leers at her, though his heart's not really in it.  Fujioka stands her ground, engaging in their never ending staring contest with all the gusto he's come to expect, before turning away and walking into the room like she owns it.  Kaito's eyes follow her.

"Really?"  

"Of course," she answers without missing a beat.  "You're absolutely right.  After the last few days, I'd sleep in a pile of hay before I took the floor again."

She pulled back the covers, on the side that doesn't have an indent.  She settles herself down under the wool blankets, seeming taken aback for a moment at how warm they are.

"You understand you're agreeing to share a bed with me, right?" Kaito asks calmly.

She takes a long, exaggerated long at the bed she's laying in.  "Obviously."

He shrugs as if in defeat and strolls along over to her, standing so that she can't see anything beyond the span of his body.  He wants to make it as clear as possible to her how much bigger he is, and when he sees her face, he knows she's got the message loud and clear.

"I'm not afraid of you," she says.

He grins, all his very white teeth on display, and lets his eyes trail up and down her lithe frame.  "Are you sure about that?"

"Completely," she says, and she rolls over to face the wall, pulling the covers over her head.  "You would never do anything like that.  I know, I know you."

 _'No, no you don't,'_  a childish voice in his head longs to scream at her, mixed in with so many other things he would bombard this infuriating woman with if he could.  He can't, though, both because it would ruin everything he's trying to build up, and because she's right.  About this one thing, if nothing else, she is absolutely right, and there is no way he's going to let her hear it.

"Goodnight, Tamaki," she says before falling asleep. 

Kaito can't even think of a decent response.

When Fujioka wakes up the next morning, she finds him asleep on the couch.


	15. Legendary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! Sorry this one took so long. I hope the next one will make it up to you. It's another Kyoya chapter. ;)
> 
> I can't believe we're halfway through the story. I never could have imagined we'd get this far. Thanks to everyone who's faved and reviewed so far. I hope you'll continue to follow me to the very end of the crazy little adventure, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Haruhi has an easy time finding the bathroom, getting to it was the hard part. Tamaki is asleep when she wakes up, but she learns quickly that he isn't a heavy sleeper. The slightest whine of the bed as she moves makes him jerk and grunt, though it never fully rouses him. Haruhi creeps to the door, arms out. She notices for the first time long streaks of dirt going all the way up to her shoulders. Her clothes are in a similar state.

She makes it to the door, open an inch wide. It doesn't creak, but she is cautious when pushing it, careful not to make any sudden movements. Outside is bright with natural sunlight that filters through uncovered windows. Voices come from all different directions, but they are too far away to sound like anything more than buzzing in her ears. She gets just enough room to fit her slender body through and then lets it swing back into its original position as she takes in her surroundings.

The first thing that catches her eye is the bathroom, which has a sink, a bathtub and a large brass pot in place of a toilet. The second thing is that some of the whispering she's been hearing is getting closer.

Two woman- no older than her- are huddled close to one another as they move in perfect time. They wear white shirts and black pants with noting to indicate what they are doing here. The folded sheets one of them carries is a much better hint. They stop short when they see her standing there.

After a beat, the one on the right speaks up. "Hello, you must be our guest. We just finished making up your room for you, it's just two doors down from here."

"Yeah, I saw," Haruhi says. "Thank you for your hard work."

"It's our job," says the one on the left. Haruhi can't help but notice the not-so-subtle differences in her voice as opposed to her friend, and neither can she.

"What Kana means is that we are always happy to serve a friend of Kaito-sama's. We've also left extra water in the bathroom so you can bathe if you wish, and there's a new set of clothes for you in your room. You can just leave your old ones in the bathroom and we'll take care of them."

She bows low, prompting her friend to reluctantly do the same. They leave quickly, still talking in hushed tones as they go. Haruhi can't be bothered to worry about what they might be saying as she walks into the bathroom, grateful for its mere existence. As she suspected, it's much cleaner than what she's used to. There is still clear wear and tear in the peeling wallpaper and scuffed up linoleum floors, but it doesn't detract at all.

The promised water is sitting in several buckets lining the foot of the bathtub. Haruhi checks herself in the mirror first, taking in dirt stains and clumps of sand caught in her hair, and the collar of her shirt that has almost completely torn away. It's as bad as she thought it was, but seeing it makes her think it's no wonder that maid was so curt with her. Not that Haruhi plans to make friends once she's clean.

She fills the bathtub with all but one of the water buckets, and checks the door for a lock before stripping down and stepping in. The water isn't the least bit warm, but after days in a cell, it feels like heaven. Haruhi rubs at sore bones and soiled skin, soothing and cleaning herself while the sun rises higher and higher in the sky.

She goes to her bedroom with the biggest towel she could find securely wrapped around her chest. This room is even smaller and plainer than Tamaki's was, a bed on one side, a dresser on the other, and nothing more to speak of. There's not even a closet. At least the clothes left for her have some color to them. Blue jeans and a well laundered powder blue blouse, colors that could blind her after so many years of black. They fit well and are comfortable enough that she could spend the whole day with her arms wrapped around her waist and nothing else.

Leaving the room, she walks back to Tamaki's and peers inside through the crack. The couch is empty. Feeling bold, she opens the door all the way and finds that he is long gone, and the bed has been stripped. His closet door is ajar, the only way she knows that he was ever there in the first place. Her next stop is the balcony on top of the staircase, high above the crowds. Several people are going in and out downstairs in the lobby, and none of them are Tamaki. Haruhi recognizes at least one person as the doctor who came to her while she was incarcerated. She has a young girl with her with very long black hair who turns on one foot and looks ready to run out the door at the first word.

Haruhi waits to see if Tamaki shows up, and when he doesn't, descends the stairs. A couple of people stop to look at her, but there is no great wave of shock at seeing the prisoner free and walking amongst them. Haruhi doesn't believe she's missing out. On the bottom step, the doctor finishes her conversation and meets her eye.

"Oh, good morning, Fujioka-san. I see you're doing better."

"Good morning..." Haruhi wants to go on, but can't. "I'm sorry, I don't think I ever got your name."

"I'm Dr. Kosaka," she says with a bow of her head. "But most people just call me Aina."

Aina pulls her daughter to the forefront, holding her by the shoulders. The girl has been watching Haruhi like she's a bug under a microscope for some time now. Haruhi tries not to stare back.

"This is my daughter, Junko." Aina squeezes down when she starts to squirm. "Since you're going to be staying with us for a while, she's going to show you around town. I hope that's okay."

From the looks of things, it could never be less okay for Haruhi than it is for Junko. She scowls at her, and makes a final, desperate break for freedom. Aina is stronger than she looks, though.

"Is Ta- er, is Kaito-sama around?" Haruhi asks. "I didn't get to talk to him this morning."

Aina frowns. "Kaito-sama is in his office for the rest of the morning. He doesn't like to be disturbed."

"Oh…" Haruhi tries not to sound too disappointed, but she still gets a pointed glare from Junko.

Aina heaves a sigh and lets go of Junko's shoulders. It's a miracle that she doesn't bolt immediately.

"Well, I guess I'll leave you two alone. Now be nice to Fujioka-san, Junko. Don't go anywhere near the forest and be back in time for lunch, understand?"

" _Yes_  mom," Junko drawls.

With Aina gone, it's just the two of them surrounded by involved and nameless people, and Haruhi is starting to feel the isolation. Her toes curl as she holds out a hand to Junko and tries to sound enthused when she speaks. That perpetually stony face is making it difficult.

"It's nice to meet you, Junko," she says. "Thank you for being my guide today."

"What are your intentions towards Kaito-sama?"

It's such an abrupt and out of nowhere question, that Haruhi almost gives the answer to the question she thought Junko would ask, that being 'Where would you like to go first?'

"Er… I'm sorry?"

Junko's eyes shrink into slits. "You heard me."

This is way worse than when Aina was around. For all that she made her true feelings about the situation clear then, she was holding back quite a bit. Her glare is so viciously potent that one could forget she was just a child, no higher than Haruhi's shoulder blade.

"I have no intentions towards anyone," Haruhi says coolly. "Tama- Kaito-sama is an old friend of mine, and I'm just trying to reconnect with him."

"Are you  _just_  a friend?"

Something about that question gives her pause, obvious as the answer may be.

"Yes, I'm  _just_  a friend," she says, but the words feeling strange on her tongue.

It's good enough for Junko, though. She releases Haruhi from her cutting stare and requests with the utmost politeness that she follow her.

**

"This is the main street. We have a bunch of other streets around here, but those are mostly houses and fields and stuff. This is where all the shops are."

Haruhi tries to follow everything Junko says and points to, but it's not easy with her rapid hand movements and tendency to jump from one subject to another.

"That place over there is the grocery store. It mostly just has fruits and vegetables since we get meat from the butcher down the road. The butcher's kind of a jerk so I don't like going to see him, and he's always holding this giant cleaver like he's going to chop your head off. I think he's secretly an axe murder, but don't tell my mom. Then we have the lake where we fish, even though most of the year, we don't catch anything. Last time, we got about three dozen salmon and had a real big feast. That was about a year ago, and then one guy tried to steal a whole fish for himself and a bunch of the other guys caught him and they all started this big fight that Uragiru-san had to break up. That guy was a carpenter until he quit, and now we have a new guy who works over by…"

Haruhi nods in time, though she lost track of what Junko was saying some time ago. The child goes on without noticing, discussing at length the many virtues of 'Neko-onna,' the elderly woman who lives at the edge of town and takes care of a family of cats. They walk up the street, one of the biggest Haruhi has ever seen. Even before ten years ago, when she made her home in one of the most populated regions of Japan. This town must have been a part of it, perhaps one she never visited. Most of the buildings are in good condition and made of high class stone or brick. She can imagine this having been a very rich neighborhood, full of the people she when to school with drinking fancy teas and shopping for designer clothing. They could never have known that their reputable little town would become a thriving civilization that kept the world alive.

They walk further down, Haruhi still picturing the richly dressed people who used to live here, and the buildings slowly lose their sheen. They become shorter, smaller, and appear rickety to the point that she feels instinctively like she should stop a middle aged man from climbing the steps of a plywood patio.

Maybe this  _wasn't_  a rich area, maybe these people are just really good at adapting.

"That out there is the baseball field."

"What?" Haruhi comes back to reality and has to contend with another one of Junko's overly judgmental stares.

"Pay attention when I talk," she says, clenching her fists. "I don't like repeating myself. I _said_ , this is the baseball field. My team plays against the south side's team once a week during the summer. I play shortstop, and we beat the stuffing out of stupid Tosugawa's team every week. You got it?"

"I uh- I don't know who Tosugawa is."

"It doesn't matter, just so long as you know that my team is way better than his team."

She keeps walking with her back specifically facing Haruhi. It's all so very final and not so important anyway, that Haruhi lets her go on to something new and doesn't ask questions. She looks out at the grassy fields and the forest beyond it, the one Aina said to avoid. The trees are thick, leafy and plentiful in number. One with a bright red ribbon around it sticks out like a sore thumb, as does the one right next to it with a blue ribbon.

"What is that?" Haruhi points to them.

"Nothing," Junko says coldly. "It's our secret place with no grown-ups allowed, so don't even think about going over there."

"I thought your mother said not to go into the forest."

"We don't!" Junko huffs. "We just stay out by the edge and see who can climb up trees the hightest."

"I see," Haruhi says.

"I can climb way higher than Tosugawa."

"I bet you do."

They walk out of the fields, entering the center of the main street through an alleyway. On either side are the grocery store and a junk shop. Junko doesn't have much to say about the latter except that her mother never allows her to go near it alone, but sometimes her friends dare each other to go inside. They move further up the street, closer to the lake and an old, shed like structure partially hidden in shadow. It's windows are boarded up and the door is dead bolted. She chalks it up to an unused building until the doors spring open from the inside and a pair of arguing men with rapidly forming bruises comes out. Their shouts can be heard all the way down, but no one stops. It's like this is a common occurrence.

"Hey, Junko?"

Junko, who is in the middle of a story about how the new carpenter once got into a fight with the junk shop owner over some repairs, grits her teeth.

"You know, I hate being interrupted even more than I hate repeating myself."

"I just wanted to ask," Haruhi gestures at the old shed. "What is… wait, what is  _that_?"

Haruhi's finger draws a line, starting with the shed and then swerving suddenly to a large brick building that takes up twice the area of a regular building. How it evaded her sight for so long, she doesn't know, but all thoughts of the shed are erased by the mere sight of it. She has a very good feeling she knows what it is, or at least what it used to be, and her heart swells with anticipation.

"What, that?" Junko sniffs. "That's just the library. Nothing fun to do in there."

She hasn't taken a step when Haruhi stops her.

"Is it an actual library, or just a few books?" she asks. There's no way it could be true, no matter how well cared for the building looks. That says nothing about what's inside of it. It's just too good to be true.

"A few? Yeah right, I wish it was just a few." Junko kicks at the dirt. "My mom is always trying to make me read more, but it's so boring. There's like a million shelves in there and a billion books. It's crazy! Who wants to read that many books? Who wants to read  _any_  books? Who-"

Junko turns her head, and Haruhi isn't behind her anymore. She's running up the stairs to the library like a child on Christmas, only just conscious of Junko shouting after her.

"Well if you want to be just another boring bookworm, that's fine with me!"

**

Haruhi tours endless aisles, brushing her fingers along the spines hard and soft, worn and new. The whole room smells like ink and pages, and returns her to days when she would stop at the local library after school to find something new. Every section is packed with more books than the shelves can hold, and yet they always slide out easily when she finds one to skim through. Soon she'll look for one to read, but for now, she just wants to hold them and know that they are real.

She feels kind of silly, acting like simple books are some kind of miracle. She was always a big reader from early childhood, starting with the I Can Read books her mother bought her and ending with the pre-law textbooks that would have decided her future. In between were books of all different types and genres that she would sit up with in the middle of the night with the covers over her head. She never once sat down and really thought about how much those stories meant to her. There had never been a need to. She could always go back and read them again if she wanted to. The idea that they'd one day become fuel for fire was unimaginable.

Haruhi stops in between aisles. All the way down is the small wooden desk where the librarian sits, an enormous, leather-bound Tolsky in her lap. She didn't say anything when Haruhi walked in, engrossed in her reading as she was. Haruhi should follow her example.

She goes searching for something to read, but she's not sure where to start. Flipping pages just to feel them slip through your fingers is one thing, what Haruhi needs now is something to immerse herself in. She finds the mystery section and walks slowly up and down, scanning the titles for something to catch her eye. A name sticks out, written in big block letters and taking up more than half of the spine. Haruhi pulls it down. It's on the very top shelf and she has to stretch. She reads the title to herself as her lips twitch upward. That worn out old mystery novel that she knows by heart is one in a series.

Haruhi finds and empty table, and for the next few hours, her problems and fears are dashed away. Nothing matters except reading on and finding the identity of the killer.

**

Night is falling, and Haruhi has just found her way back to the hospital. It's lit up like a Christmas tree, compared to the haunting darkness every other building possess. The town hall is the only other place with lights on, mostly at the top floors. She sees a figure standing before the middle window looking out. His features are covered, but it's plain to Haruhi who he is. He moves out of sight and she averts her eyes.

Haruhi walks into the main infirmary to find Aina bandaging a patient's leg. He's a very large fellow with gray peppered brown hair and a full beard. He has the look of a lion and the countenance of a rabbit. That's what Haruhi determines as she waits in the background to be noticed and watches them. Aina finishes her examination by checking his blood pressure and, presumably satisfied, she leaves an assistant to fluff his pillows. He thanks her kindly and she moves on to the next patient.

Except there is no next patient; her eyes fall on Haruhi.

"Oh good, you're back," she says, hands on her hips. "I'm so sorry Junko left you like that. You didn't have a hard time finding your way around, did you?"

"No, I'm fine," Haruhi says, calming her fears.

Aina goes to pick up some spare gauze and splints off an empty bed. She calls over her second assistant to put them away, and when it's just the two of them again, she guides Haruhi over to her desk with a gentle hand.

"Come on, you must be hungry," she says.

Haruhi starts to object, but her whining stomach speaks for her, and speaks truthfully. Aina's desk is in the far corner, hidden by a flimsy cardboard divider that is transparent enough for her to look out and see if a patient needs her. The desk itself is covered in clutter. Books are stacked as high as her head and have little bits of paper sticking out at odd angles. Some of them are pulled out enough that Haruhi can see Aina's writing on them. 'See' is the keyword because Aina's kanji is awful, even for a doctor. Aside from that, there are a few children's drawings tacked up on a bulletin board, and a single photograph of a newborn baby framed and in the center.

Aina takes a fruit bowl from off the top of a filing cabinet. Fresh apples and pears form a round pyramid. Placing it in the middle of the mess- and pushing aside some of her notes to do so- Aina then removes a small sandwich from her purse and breaks off the two halves. She places one in front of Haruhi.

"Take as much as you like," she says.

It's like a little feast just for them, but Haruhi isn't sure she's hungry enough for that. Her stomach can protest as much as it wants, and it does. She takes only a few bites of the sandwich (peanut butter?) and one apple. In the end, the former is forgotten in favor of the latter.

"You're fruit is so fresh," she says after swallowing the first bite of her second apple. It was hard even to wait that long to express herself.

"All of our fruit is grown in the gardens just outside of town," Aina explains. She carefully cuts her pear into equal slices, and a botched cut messes one of them up. Aina eats it immediately. "We have to conserve during the fall and winter, but we've developed a really good system for distributing food and keeping everyone well fed all year round."

Haruhi smiles to herself. "You guys seem to have a good system for everything."

"Well, we do what we can."

"I mean it," Haruhi says seriously. She puts down her half eaten apple, which isn't easy. It somehow gets more delicious with every bite. "This is one of the most… together towns that I've seen in years. You even have a library!"

Aina chuckles. "Oh yeah, Junko said that's where you went. You 'turned out to be a book loving egghead.' Her words, not mine."

Haruhi feels a twinge of embarrassment, which she hides behind another big bite of her apple. She savors the sweet juice on her tongue as long as she can. Meanwhile, Aina is still speaking, even though the conversation isn't really going anywhere.

"I always wish Junko could appreciate reading. I try to find something she might like, but so far nothing has worked. Sometimes, I feel like giving up and letting her do what she wants, but then what kind of mother would I be? I suppose we should just be thankful that we have the library at all. We have so many things to be thankful for. Kaito-sama has seen to that."

She starts to say something else, but stops at the first syllable, like it instantly hit her that she's said too much. Haruhi vigorously munches her apple, trying not to see Aina's eyes planted firmly on her. It's amazing how little she's been thinking about Tamaki these last few hours. She hasn't seen him all day, and that should have been bothering her, but instead she's found herself content with knowing that she would see him when she got back that night. Even if he avoided her, she had to pass his room to get to hers.

Of course, now that he is on her mind again, he takes it up completely, and nothing is going to stop that.

"Aina," Haruhi says, her mind and her mouth on autopilot. "If you don't mind me asking… how did Kaito-sama come to be the leader of this town?"

Haruhi can't tell if her emphasis on the name registered in Aina's mind, but she does know that her question has effectively broken the ice. All formalities are useless now. Aina is closer to Tamaki than anyone else. How close is unclear (part of her is afraid to ask), but Haruhi knows that for now, this is her best bet of understanding what's happened to him.

"Kaito-sama…" Aina stops, searching for the right words.

Whatever they are, they elude her, so it's fortunate for her some of her patients have such good hearing and such loud voices. Or maybe it isn't.

"You guys talking about Kaito-sama over there?" shouts a heavily bandaged up man with tiny brown eyes and exceedingly hairy arms. "Well gee, Aina, what are you waiting for? Tell her the story."

He grins at the man next to him, small and skinny with dark hair and an eye patch.

"Yeah, tell her all about that douche Taiga and how Kaito-sama kicked his ass."

"Well, he did more than that," says the bandaged man.

"Hey, knock it off you guys, don't interrupt private conversations," shouts the mustached man Aina was working on before. "Didn't anyone ever teach you manners? Don't forget how sensitive a subject Taiga is for Aina."

Haruhi looks at Aina. She doesn't seem all that distraught or uncomfortable. She's looking down at her food and nothing resembling a smile is on her face, but there are no tears to be found, and her face retains its natural color. From that alone, Haruhi can determine nothing, but who knows what kind of storm could be going on under her skin. Maybe something, maybe nothing.

"If you don't want to talk about it, we don't have to," she says.

Aina looks up immediately and smiles. It looks real, if a little too wide.

"Not at all," she says. "I don't mind talking about it. It was three years ago, and nothing ever happened."

"Yeah, but that guy was really coming on to you, Aina!" shouts the bandaged man.

Aina groans softly and lowers her head.

"He would not quit," answers the eye patch man. "I don't know why he had such a thing for you, but he was incorrigible."

"Aina's pretty serious about her work," the bandaged man addresses Haruhi directly for the first time. "That, and taking care of little Junko. Single working moms don't have much time for flings."

"It's not a joke, you two," says the mustached man. "Taiga could've really hurt her."

"And it's a damn good thing he didn't get the chance," replies the bandaged man. "Of course, if he had, Kaito-sama would've just killed him sooner."

They continue to talk amongst themselves, alternating between extolling Kaito-sama and vilifying whoever this Taiga person was. Haruhi gives up on them and goes back to the information source she'd wanted in the first place. Aina has her back turned now as she puts the half full fruit bowl back in its proper place. As she bustles about, Haruhi tries to control her breathing and find some kind of peace of mind to ask this question. She would've been fine before that man had to go and mention Kai- Tamaki killing Taiga  _sooner_. Somehow, watching it with her own two eyes was not enough to take away the nausea that accompanied the very thought of blood on his hands. She sees his dopey smile in her mind's eye and she wants to break down.

_'How could this have happened? Why…?'_

"Aina, who's Taiga?" Haruhi asks the moment Aina sits back down in her cushiony desk chair with the stuffing peeking out the top. Any later, and she would have excused herself and ran like a coward.

Aina makes a fist, taking just long enough to answer that Haruhi wonders if she's gone too far.

"Taiga is…  _was._.. well, first of all, before Kaito-sama, our town was run by a man named Yoikagi."

"Good man, Yoikagi was," shouts the bandaged man. His friends all nod in agreement.

Aina takes a breath through her nose. "Yes well, Yoikagi is the one who brought Kaito here in the first place. He found him during a scavenging trip and invited him to come back with them."

 _'So that's how he got here,'_  Haruhi thinks to herself.

"They became good friends. Kaito-sama was sort of like his second-in-command after a while. When Taiga and his friends showed up-"

"They were like a motorcycle gang or something," the eye patch man pipes up. "Don't have a clue how they maintained those things for so long, but they did."

Aina turns and gives him a look. Haruhi can't see it, but it shuts the eye patch man right up.

"They came about a year after Kaito arrived and tried to take over the town. Taiga he… he killed Yoikagi when he tried to make him leave, and then a few weeks later, Kaito-sama killed Taiga and took the town back. He's been in charge ever since."

Aina breathes deeply like she's been holding it in for a long time. She stands up again, though Haruhi can't think of a reason why. She's not going anywhere except closer to the window, which is fogged over and cracked at one side and looks sealed shut. Haruhi looks ruefully after her, wondering if she should've waited until they were alone to ask or simply not have asked at all.

While the men laughed and jeered in the background, Haruhi willfully drowned them out in favor of the light rain she could just hear falling outside. Aina watches it, hands clasped behind her back, shoulders even and posture relaxed. Haruhi still feels like it's all just for show.

For this reason, she puts aside her desire to learn more, all-encompassing as it is. There is more to the story than this, she just knows it. It's just going to have to wait, though. Maybe there is someone else in town who can tell her more; the librarian, that man Uragiru, even Junko. Some part of her finds humor in the idea of just asking Tamaki directly. Just imagine what he would say.

The men quiet down a tad, and that's when Haruhi decides it's time to go. The sky is a thick blanket of clouds that coat it in near blackness. Even if the town hall is close, it's a big enough and new enough place that she won't be taking any chances.

Aina sees her out with an open invitation for her to come and see her whenever she likes.

"I'm always looking for more hands to help out around here, so don't expect me not to put you to work," she teases.

Haruhi promises that she will, and then she leaves before the temptation for further interrogation returns and drives her to places she shouldn't be going to with Aina.

Walking down the street at night isn't as bad as she thought it would be. Along with everything else this town has going for it, there are tall street lights lining the sidewalks, at least ten on each side. They look sturdily constructed, they must have always been there. All the way up the road is a man standing on a ladder, lighting the little oil lamp inside. Haruhi follows the the tiny lights all the way to the town hall. She feels the bite of the rain lessen to a stop, though the clouds have not dispersed. Despite this, shadows dance along the sides of her vision of the night crowd coming out of hiding. They are few, but loud. They lay around on stoops and stairways, lighting up and trading stories.

Some of them look at her.

Haruhi doesn't know if it's just curiosity or if they actually know who she is until one person gawks.

"Hey, I think that's her," he hisses to his friends.

"Who? The prisoner girl?" asks someone else. It's so dark even with the row of lights, Haruhi can't discern any of their features.

"She's not a prisoner anymore," says a very slick, very female voice. "Haven't you heard? She spent the night in Kaito-sama's room last night."

"No way," says another voice. Below his are a few more dissolved into snickers. "You can't possibly mean that…"

"Well, what else would she be doing there?" says the female. "It's not like he'd just give a complete stranger his room for nothing."

"Unbelievable."

"Never thought Kaito-sama was like that."

"What I don't get is why out of all the women in town throwing themselves at him, he'd pick an intruder," says a thoughtful fourth voice. "Do you think maybe they know each other after all?"

"I doubt that. Like you said, she is an intruder."

Their conversation moves on to other subjects, but Haruhi is still as a statue. They don't bother with her anymore, so it doesn't create a great deal of fuss when she does get her legs moving and runs into the town hall building, passed more eyes that follow her and more bits of phrases being directed at her.

"Hey, isn't that-"

"…yeah, I heard she…"

"…in his room…"

"… _her_  and not  _me_? It isn't…"

"…he could do way better than  _that_ , don't you…"

She goes up the stairs three at a time and doesn't stop until she's in front of his office. Tamaki is at his desk reading through some papers and barely acknowledges. Haruhi slams her palms down on the desk and he glances up like she's just a fly buzzing around his help.

"Can I help you?"

"Did you know people are talking about me?" Haruhi has to actively work to keep her voice low and not scream. "About us?"

Now he really does look at her, though he looks more amused than anything, amused at her.

"There's an 'us', now?"

Haruhi points at the window. " _They_  think there is."

Tamaki goes back to flipping through loose pages covered in messy handwriting, some of which he sweeps into the trash bin without looking. Haruhi's arm starts to hurt, so she has to lower it and be content to watch Tamaki ignore her in favor of a letter that he's just going to toss aside with the rest anyway. True to form, he does just that and then looks at her, eyes going wide for a brief moment.

"Oh, you're still here," he says, and Haruhi's patience wears even thinner. "So what do you want from me? People gossip, they tell stories. It's a fact of life, and maybe you should have thought of that before you accepted my offer."

"This isn't my fault," Haruhi says through grit teeth.

"But it is mine?" He counters. When Haruhi has no answer, he gets up, using his frankly unfair height advantage to look down at her more efficiently.

"I just want it to stop," Haruhi says lamely. She's starting to regret ever coming here in the first place. What has she accomplished other than making herself look hysterical and immature in the face of public opinion? Whatever happened to that 'impenetrable Haruhi shield' Hikaru and Kaoru used to insist she had that caused other people's thoughts and voices to bounce harmlessly off her exterior? She could really use some of that right now.

For his part, Tamaki is no more fazed than he was twenty seconds ago, either in agreement with her or in mocking. He lazes back in his chair, boots on the desk.

"And what do you want me to do about it?"

Haruhi doesn't like his tone, mostly because it tells her nothing. He could mean a plethora of different things, asking her this. He could be genuine, according to the ever shrinking part of her mind that represents her optimism. Odds are he's just trying to get under her skin, and intentionally so, not like the people in the streets who are just carelessly enjoying the latest town drama.

"Would  _Tamaki_  have done something?" he asks, just to drive the nail in further. "No, don't answer. I'll just go ahead and assume he would."

Haruhi is gone before he can say anymore, or does anything else that might make her want to let her hand fly into his face as hard as she can. She goes back to her room instead. The maids from this morning are cleaning the bathroom and they laugh when they think she's out of earshot.

She closes the door behind her and shuts the curtains, plunging the room in darkness. Feeling her way around, she gets to the bed and sits at the foot of it, her hands on her head and pressing in until she can't sit up any longer.

**

Kaito's day does not start normally. It's all routine up until he gets dressed, then it's just a quick look in the mirror to make sure he's presentable, and then he's outside on a day that's sunnier than expected last night. He had checked Fujioka's room discreetly before leaving, just a little peek down the hall to make sure her door was still shut, and it was.

He faces typical greetings with typical answers and avoids the areas where many of the local girls spend their time. A few of them spot him anyway, but they dare not approach. He hears his name whispered among them with less affection than normal.  _Her_  name is passed around tantamount with his and there is no warmth to it at all.

Kaito thinks about stopping; he has a couple of questions to ask. Then one of the girls makes a snide aside.

"…I only know as much as Taro and Akechi have been saying. Who knows how reliable those two are, but I know Akechi's sister is a maid in the town hall, so that must count for something."

"So Kaito-sama and that Fujioka woman are really…"

The awestruck and possibly devastated girls tell him no more, and Kaito has what he needs anyway.

He knows Taro and Akechi well; too well for his liking. They have a history of disruption and mischief making dating back to Yoikagi's days. It never goes further than spreading rumors or howling at women on the streets, but sometimes Kaito wishes they would cause some real damage to something so that he'd have an excuse to lock them up for a while.

The two of them are by the grocer's today, seeming quite innocent with their apples in hand and laughter in their voices, but Kaito already knows what is so funny to them, and it's anything but.

"I bet they're in bed together right now," says Taro. "Probably doing everything under the sun and then some."

Him and Akechi have the most idiotic grins plastered on their faces. They're like children.

"I wonder if he's gotten her to su-"

"Good morning, boys," Kaito says from right behind them. "Having a nutritious breakfast?"

The boys freeze in place. What little Kaito can see of their faces is blanched pure white and sweaty. Stiff as can be, they turn to face him, both of them trying to look small and unassuming.

"O-Oh, Kaito-sama," says Akechi. He straightens his spine and salutes. "I mean, hello Kaito-sama, sir, it's good to see you today. I… I hope you're well…"

"I am," he responds. "Thank you for your concern."

He waits to go on, lets them stew for a while. He has to hand it to them at the very least for not running while they can.

"I understand you two have some interesting ideas about myself and my guest. I thought we might discuss it?"

They are a hair's breath away from voiding themselves, but Kaito isn't done yet.

"I would just like to inform you that there is nothing more than a tentative acquaintance between the two of us, and I hope you'll understand that any assumptions otherwise are false and shouldn't be entertained in any way," he leans over in such a way that the hilt of his machete is visible. "You  _do_  understand, right?"

"Yes," they say, having found their voices at the same time and at the same frequency. "Yes sir, we understand clearly, sir. There is no more confusion here, sir."

"Excellent, just what I wanted to hear."

Kaito cheerfully walks away with little more than a wave at the boys he's just scared half to death. Now that that's out of the way, he needs to talk to the housekeeper about finding some new maids, and then he'll have to sit down and give some real thought into what the hell he's doing.


	16. Reflection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sincerest apologies for taking so long, and that the chapter is so short. It's a necessary one. We have to keep track of Kyoya, don't we?
> 
> His journey will continue, as will Haruhi's. We'll be seeing more of her next chapter, so keep an eye out for it.

This bar on the side of the road is a miracle. Real alcohol springs from the taps, though Kyoya knows better than to do more than smell his drink.

He is the only patron with such reservations. Those who aren't slamming themselves into poles repeatedly for the entertainment of their equally wasted friends are plastered over tables, dead to the world and possibly dead period. He watches one man, counts the number of seconds between the rise and fall of his back. Seven seconds is the record.

It's no longer shocking to him, how little death affects him. He's seen it up close, even before all of this. One of his earliest memories was the funeral of a relative, their name and his relation to them long forgotten. He remembers the casket being carried into the furnace, and the swirling black smoke that carried into the heavens. It reached for a god Kyoya never truly believed in, and faded against the yellow sun as the world spun on, and no Saviour's hand reached down to take it.

After a time without action, Kyoya's drink is collected. The bartender tosses the full tankard into the sink, it tips to the right and spills out a third of the liquid. The few coins Kyoya carries on him go on the table, swept away into the bartender's pocket for safe-keeping.

"Anything else, Jack?"

Kyoya nods in polite refusal. The bartender grunts unintelligibly and leaves Kyoya to himself, to break up a fight between one of the 'pole walkers' and a friend who is asking for one too many repeat performances.

Kyoya leaves the way he came: fatigued, underdressed for the weather, and thirsty as all hell. He buttons up his coat to the collar, adjusting his neck so that it only slightly restricts his breathing. It does little to block out the cold. Winter is on the horizon, a merciless mistress he always fears he won't survive another year to see. One of these days, she will take him, frostbitten and blue, and maybe on that day he'll be relieved, but right now, he hopes it can wait another year or two.

The paper in his pocket is the best incentive he's ever had to keep moving. Beyond 'stay alive,' he's never had much of that. Basic survival skills are easy to learn. His wealthy upbringing, against all expectations, prepared him well for this. He knows when to trust and when to walk away, when to fold and when to hold them, when to run and when to stand your ground and fight. If none of that works, he knows how to escape, like water slipping through the cracks in the dam. If he's quick enough, he avoids the inevitable flood. Kyoya has never not been quick enough, and he sure as hell isn't going to start now.

On the edge of this woebegone village of the dead is the ocean. Kyoya takes time to look out at the waves crashing into the sand. This area could have been a beach once for all he knows. All the evidence that this water had been used for anything is the remains of a dock up ahead. The charred wood has stood the test of time, though as Kyoya gets closer, the scent of smoke is unmistakable. It's hard not to imagine how this dock met its end, or how many lives it took with it. Scraps of cloth mold into the dirt, some of them shine like gold as the clouds part and the moon is revealed. There is a bit of something beige wrapped around one piece. He hesitates to wonder what it could be.

The crunching gravel at his back doesn't register above the surrounding noise of water and crickets until it makes its approach. Kyoya's ears perk up. He hears breathing accompany the steps, not heaving or choking, but resonating louder than perhaps it should.

Kyoya exhales himself, calming the racing of his heart that comes from the cold. His hands go into his pockets, each fingering a trigger. His guest stops at his back, waits for the longest time to speak, like he had wanted to scare Kyoya into having the first word.

"Where the hell have you been?"

The voice is familiar right away. A name rests on the tip of his tongue, but for the life of him, Kyoya can't place it. Now he is forced to turn, to see a face that makes him wish he hadn't, or that he'd stayed in the bar and finished his drink like a good drifter. A few knocks to the head might clear it a bit.

"Forgive me," he says in easy tones, underscoring how serious this could become, depending on Mr. Icano's state of mind and the nature of his business. "I'm afraid something came up which required me to leave early. I apologize for cutting our last encounter short."

He loops his fingers through the trigger holes.

"Can't say I give a shit about that," Icano says, shrugging. "I'd just like to know how you did it."

"Patience, mostly," Kyoya responds, smiling in spite of himself. "Patience and quick steps."

"Heh heh, yeah, you're a sneaky little bastard, aren't you?"

Icano spits into the water. Kyoya doesn't realize right away that it was a cigarette butt, or that Icano had had it in his mouth at all. He starts rummaging in the wide pockets of his jacket, doubtlessly searching for another. While he's busy with that, Kyoya cases the surrounding area. Shrouded in darkness, there is little to tell. The one pitiful flame that burns belongs to a small family up the street. Crowded together, they hover around the melancholy crackle, desperate for even a hint of warmth.

"What's your problem?" Icano demands, and Kyoya curses himself and how obvious he's being. Oh well, no taking it back now.

"I don't suppose Kitano is waiting around somewhere to ambush me?"

Icano laughs. It sounds more than a little like the barking of a Rottweiler. "That what you're worried about?"

"Well, I must have damaged his pride last time."

Icano nods, humming thoughtfully. "Yeah, probably. He was pretty pissed when he went to get you that morning and you were gone. Woke the rest of us up with his screaming he did."

"Is that right?" Kyoya's response is derivative, and solely to keep up the illusion that he was listening. He eyes were ever on the darkest corners of each decaying structure, his hands taut over his weapons.

"And that was before he noticed the sketch of Kaito was missing."

Icano lowers his eyes, with a look that spoke plainly for him, telling Kyoya not to even bother denying it.

He wouldn't have, of course. There's nothing to deny. Kyoya makes that clear when he moves one hand from his outer pocket to the inner one. He is slow going, mostly sure that Icano won't react to sudden movements, but far too world weary to take chances. Out comes the folded paper, the creases smudged from constant handling. One small corner is also ripped off thanks to a zipper mishap. Kyoya holds it at eye level, between his middle and index finger. Against the odds, Icano does not snatch it back. There is no inspection of the drawing to make sure Kyoya isn't playing him, and now toothless thugs step into the dismal light with shotguns and clubs. Icano never even looks at the paper.

"That's it alright," Icano says, nodding his head once or twice.

"You'll want it back then?" Kyoya blithely infers.

"Eh, keep it. We got Picasso to draw up another one right after you left, and it's a good thing we did, because if we'd waited a day to search for you like Kitano wanted, we never would've gotten to Picasso before he took to the noose."

He speaks like a man inconvenienced by a rainy day. There is nothing Kyoya can do but swallow.

"How very… fortunate for you."

" _I_  am, maybe," says Icano with a snort. "Not so much for Kitano, though. Ryuuga doesn't take failure very well, see. Last time I saw Kitano, half his head was splattered on the floor."

Shudders ripple through Icano's body, soft enough to be nearly invisible to the naked eye, but Kyoya has always had an eye for details. He understands, even if he doesn't relate. It's easy to picture Kitano, facing the man he'd recklessly and stupidly thrown his lot in with. Ryuuga, he sees shrouded in black. At this point, it would be a chore to change the image even if he did know the man's face. He hears the hasty, hissing quality of Kitano's voice as he begs for a second chance; the barrel of the gun slipping into the dark to the top of Kitano's head; the squelch of blood and brain matter rolling around fragments of skull, a grotesque halo for the dead man.

It's all that Kyoya has seen a dozen times before. Each time, it hits him less, from a punch to the gut to barely a tickle. There is a fleeting sense of relief that he won't have to deal with Kitano's rat-faced presence ever again, and nothing else. That would be far more disturbing to him than the death itself any day.

"So what now?" Kyoya asks, changing the subject with little commotion. "I hope you're not still recruiting."

"Don't count on it," Icano says, placing a new, unlit cigarette in his mouth. "Unlike Kitano, I can take no for an answer. If you don't want in, then you're useless."

Kyoya purses his lips, glancing away for the first time without fear of armed men pressing a knife to his back.

"That's very mature of you," he says.

"Don't sound so surprised."

Icano turns on a heel and walks away, halfway up the beach before Kyoya can processing that he is no longer standing next to him. He doesn't think he's ever seen a more abrupt end to a conversation, even among strangers.

That should be it, of course. Kyoya can't say he enjoys talking to the man, and the feeling appears to be mutual. Daylight will wash away the night in just a few short hours, giving Kyoya precious time to find a deserted spot for some much needed sleep. He blinks itchy, heavy eyes, rubbing them when a few stubborn granules of sand refuse to budge. They tear when he's through, but the wind blows them dry as Kyoya takes long strides up the sand after Icano. There is a voice of better judgment in his head that warns him against this. That voice doesn't have a mission to fulfill.

Kyoya catches up to Icano, but keeps two steps behind him for a time. He tries to work out what he is going to say, but his thoughts are disorganized by exhaustion, and by the dreams of old friends, broken and lifeless, that plague him when he does sleep.

"Pardon me?"

He decides against tapping Icano on the shoulder, as he'd been going to. His hand stops in midair and draws back in time for Icano to look over his shoulder. It goes without saying that Kyoya has overstayed his welcome in Icano's eyes.

"What now?"

Kyoya doesn't back down, earning a sigh as Icano just barely slows his pace to let Kyoya catch up.

"Forgive me for prying," Kyoya says, "but I recall something you said on our last encounter regarding Kaito."

He has no real expectations for how Icano will react, except that he won't be happy to hear the name. Kyoya can relate. After a lengthy silence, Icano clicks his tongue, an action difficult to decipher, but Kyoya has his ideas. Assuming this Ryuuga fellow is real- and Kyoya has no reason to believe he isn't- Icano is bound to have repeated his story enough times to turn his tongue to lead. Ryuuga would want to know everything he could about his prey, of course. Know everything you can about your foe, so that when you face them, they can never take you by surprise.

This is the method of business his father drilled in him, since Kyoya was old enough to understand what the word 'business' meant.

"I believe you've seen him," Kyoya prods. That was something his father expressly warned against in most situations. To get someone where you wanted them, never appear eager and never initiate. Make them do it for you. That was the purpose of subtle manipulation and all those other lovely concepts Kyoya didn't have time for right now.

"Says who?" Icano asks childishly. "Memories can change, you know. Get corrupted and shit."

Playing dumb, were they?

How cute.

And  _disgustingly_  mediocre.

Kyoya could gag.

"While that is very true," he says pleasantly, with skill rusted over from years of disuse, but no less potent with the dust brushed off, "with all due respect, Icano-san, I have a hard time believing that to be the case. I saw you that night. I have never before seen a man with such fear in his eyes."

He narrowly avoids bypassing Icano when the man suddenly stops. His body seems to turn as one, like he is standing on Renge's old motorized platform. Kyoya steels himself when Icano leans in, revealing not a hint of distress, from the shine of his eye to the finger on his gun.

"I have."

Kyoya exhales as Icano leaves him, uncaring if Icano hears cowardly joy at still being alive where there is only relief that none of that dead fish smell wafting off of Icano has rubbed off on him.

"If you really want to know about Kaito," Icano calls out, "I'm not the person to ask."

Kyoya's eyebrows shoot up. "Aren't you? I thought you were the authority on him and his fantastic escapades."

"I'm a  _survivor_ ," Icano coldly responds. "Nothing more."

His words are a slap in the face to Kyoya. It's the first win he can give the man since the start of their reunion. For once, a shred of evocation, and Icano might not have even intended it this time.

"Can you tell me about that night, if nothing else?" Kyoya asks.

"There is nothing but that night," replies Icano, something lethargically wistful making its way into his voice, and Kyoya is silent in the face of it. "Because before that night, there was no Kaito, not as he is now."

Icano's steps turn erratic, until he can't take more than two in sequence. He finds a wall to rest on, the smoky grey wood creaking beneath his weight. Kyoya joins him, taking care to find a spot that's strong, with little to no rotting.

"It's taken me a long time to fully understand what happened that night, and  _how_  it happened." A suspicious wetness descends from Icano's eyes. "We went to that town- we went to a  _lot_  of towns looking for food or girls or whatever we felt like having. It's not like we were asking for any of it. This town was different, though. I don't know why Taiga was so into that girl that he wouldn't leave even when the rest of us were getting bored."

"Taiga?" Kyoya questions.

Icano shakes his head. "He was our leader. He wanted to stay in the town because some doctor woman caught his attention. He sort of took Kaito under his wing, messing around with him, taunting him, whatever got the rest of us a few cheap laughs. Kaito was different then. He went along with it, even when he knew we were just in it to hurt him. He was just too…  _nice_. I should have known it was nothing but a mask for what he was really like. The day we met him, we might as well have been signing our own death warrants." Icano sucks in a harsh, trembling breath. "Then Taiga killed the town leader, this guy Yoikagi, and took over. I watched Kaito hold him as he died; that was his best friend. There was so much pain there, pain and fury. It must have taken everything he had not to kill Taiga then and there. It took a week for him to get that far. Taiga had no chance. He was begging for mercy at the end, and Kaito just slit open his throat, let him bleed out."

Kyoya begins to shake.

"He wasn't the only one who went that night. Two more of us died at Kaito's hands. The rest were executed, firing squad style. I was left alive, don't ask me why. I guess I was just the weak one in their eyes, not even worth the trouble of killing. When they were dragging me out, I saw them taking my friends off to be burned. One of them had finger marks  _all over his neck_. That's not even the tip of the iceberg for what he did to Taiga-"

"Enough."

Kyoya's voice sounds nothing his own; he almost thinks for a moment that someone else has spoken for him. The cricket's gentle song is like a power drill to his temple. Any sound is too much for him, all the way up to the rumbling chuckle that inflates Icano's chest and digs into Kyoya's gut, leaving him nauseated.

"I told you.

Kyoya could shoot him. Right here and now. He should.

First he has to find someplace quiet and isolated to think and relieve himself of his miniscule breakfast. The sketch has long been returned to his pocket, but the urge to throw it into the dirt and never look back is a strong one, stopped only by a dominant rationale, that reminds him of the bigger picture. It keeps him steady, even as he loses the ability to keep still and needs to pace up and down the alleyway to get the feeling back in his legs. With each revolution, he comes closer to the street, ready to step into and leave Icano in the dust at the first opportunity.

"Hey!" Icano shouts after him. "Not that I care why you're so interested, but you'd better not be _looking_  for Kaito."

Kyoya stops.

He balls his fists.

He closes his eyes.

"Does it matter if I am?"

He's so tempted to turn back around. He's sure he'll find Icano triumphantly smirking at him, and he would die before giving him the pleasure.

"Just don't blame me if you wind up dead."

A crow caws in the distance, a perfect punctuation for a grim declaration. Kyoya stands his ground against the icy chill running through his bloodstream, and the crescendo Icano's feet stepping on leaves and twigs.

"That's not a threat, friend. It's a warning," Icano speaks in uncharacteristically warm tones. "Because if Kaito doesn't get to you first, Ryuuga will, and I can't say which would be worse."

Kyoya digs his feet into the ground and draws a breath.

"You talk about this Ryuuga very often. May I ask who he is?"

"That's not for me to say," Icano answers.

Kyoya nods. Somehow, he expected nothing less.

"Convenient," he mutters.

"You'd understand if you ever met him," said Icano, who sounds closer now, right up to Kyoya's ear. "Let me give you one piece of advice: don't meet him."

It's time to go now, Kyoya thinks. He has all he needs from Icano, all the man is willing to give. If that's the extent of his agreeableness, Kyoya would prefer to return to silent reflection, and a road that is his alone. At the corner, a hair's breadth away from the street, he can taste his freedom, but like he had the first, Icano has to have the last word too.

"That goes double for Kaito!"

Kyoya moves on, as fast as he can short of running. It would be too easy for him to stop now, go back, and release a decade's worth of pain, stress, and emotional suppression on Icano's hideous face. It would be even more cowardly, and Kyoya is no coward. Above all else, that was his father's greatest lesson: never be provoked, never be baited, and never, ever, ever let them see you angry. The moment you lose your temper is the moment that they've won.

Icano would not win.

"You don't know anything," Kyoya whispers, so that only he can hear it.

He goes in peace, walking until he can't any longer. He does the same thing the next day, and the day after that, no less uncertain than he was, and all the more determined.


	17. Accustomed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So since it's been an exceptionally long time since I've updated this story, I thought it was only fair that I give you guys a recap:
> 
> -The world is in a post-apocalyptic state and Haruhi hasn't seen any of the rest of the club for ten years.
> 
> -She starts finding them again one by one until they are once more separated when Hikaru, Kaoru, and Mori are kidnapped by the men holding Hunny prisoner.
> 
> -Meanwhile, there's a mysterious figure named Kaito-sama who is the subject of many urban legends.
> 
> -In reality, he's an amnesiac Tamaki who has become the leader of one of the last thriving towns in Japan (if not the whole world).
> 
> -Haruhi stumbles upon their border wall and is mistaken for an intruder.
> 
> -She recognizes Tamaki immediately, but he doesn't know her and is intent on ignoring everything she says about his old life.
> 
> -Haruhi refuses to give up, though and vows to find a way to restore Tamaki's memory.
> 
> -At the same time, Kyoya is also trying to find his way to Tamaki.
> 
> -The town has begun gossiping about Haruhi and 'Kaito-sama's' relationship, thinking them to be lovers. Haruhi is not happy about this, and Tamaki pretends not to care but does take steps to snuff it out a bit.
> 
> Hopefully, that helped, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

The caravan has stopped for the night. That much Hunny knows for sure. When they're left in the dark with the doors latched shut, the only way he can tell night from day is by the cracks in the wood. They either let in a jagged line of light or they don't. It's all black around him right now. By his count, there will be someone in to throw them some bread crusts in another five minutes. Assuming they don't all get drunk and forget again.

He thinks it's been a week, but it's impossible to know for sure. They have yet to find another town, and Togawa is growing impatient. Hunny heard him earlier in the day yelling about it to his men. They've been walking for days with no signs of civilization in sight. Logically, there's little chance of finding a bustling post-apocalyptic town this far north, but the one fellow who made the mistake of pointing this out got a bullet in his skull.

A faint tint of orange tells Hunny they've lit a fire. Laughter bubbles from outside. He doesn't hear drinks being cracked open, but that might be because they've exhausted their stash. Togawa wouldn't be happy about that. Through the darkness, Hunny almost sees Takashi with his head against the bars. He wouldn't be asleep right now unless he's used up all his energy staying awake and has finally crashed. On the other side, he hears Hikaru shivering. Or maybe it's Kaoru. He's been able to differentiate by vocal inflections before, but right now, his senses are dulled. He hasn't had so much as a drop of water in what feels like years. His throat is so parched he can't take a breath without pain. His strength is failing him. He can barely keep his head up at times, it's so heavy.

And he feels like the worst sort of monster because through it all, he's just happy not to be suffering alone.

"Hey," someone hisses. He strains to listen and just makes out Hikaru's deeper tones. "You awake?"

There's a crash outside, and the men are cheering. Someone's started a brawl from the sound of it. "Hard not to be."

Hunny reaches for Takashi's hand, scraping the raw skin as his heart breaks. Takashi lashed out this morning when Togawa's right-hand man backslapped Hunny. He did it for no reason other than he could because Hunny would never fight back. Not when two other men had their guns trained on the backs of Hikaru and Kaoru's heads. That hadn't stopped Takashi from trying to catch him by surprise once the gunmen were called off. For his insolence, Takashi received twenty strikes to each hand with a whip. Throughout the torture, he never once opened his mouth.

"He'll be all right," Hikaru says. "The only one tougher than him is you."

Hunny isn't so sure about that anymore. He blinks stinging red eyes. Somehow, he's just hydrated enough that he can cry. "I'm sorry, Hika-chan."

He hears Hikaru move. He sounds closer now, though the cold metal bars still separate them. "What do you have to be sorry for?"

"What don't I?" He falls on his side, curling up into a ball. "You're in here because of me. Takashi is… he's hurt because of me."

"No, Hunny-senpai," says Hikaru. "He just did what he's always done. He protected you."

"Maybe for once, I should have protected him." He should have protected all of them. He knows that now. The voice of his conscience whispers it to him whenever he's on the verge of sleep. It keeps him awake or it fills his dreams with blood and death.

"At least Haruhi is safe," Hikaru says. "That's all thanks to you."

Hunny wonders how safe she can be all alone with nothing and no one. He'd only gotten a minute with her, but Hunny had seen that she was not much more physically able than she had been a decade ago. She couldn't fight, and the shotgun she'd carried was now on Togawa's shoulder. Hunny had seen him playing with it once, showing off his meager skills to an audience that knew better than to mock him. Hunny's clan had traditionally shunned the use of firearms in combat. They were the tools of cowards and criminals. Hunny shared those views even now; he'd never picked up anything more deadly than a kitchen knife. But right then and there, he wished he was the one holding Haruhi's gun, aiming it at Togawa's head and pulling the trigger.

"It was a nice village," he sniffles. "It looked warm. Haruhi would be happy there."

"I'm sure they gave her a room and some food."

It was a fantasy they shared, and they both knew it. For the one thing that would never change about Haruhi Fujioka was her determination. If she wanted to find them or get back to where she came from, she'd do it. Nothing would stop her, and the most they could do was pray she was safe. In that selfish part of Hunny, he hopes she _is_ looking. It would be nice to meet her halfway.

"You sure it'll be tomorrow?" Hikaru asks. Hunny hears him move again, and Kaoru whimpers before going back to sleep. Hunny can just make out his head in his brother's lap.

"Definitely," he says. "They're almost out of drugs. I overheard them talking."

He looks at the door. It's black and the voices have stopped. Even Togawa has stopped screaming. His mind is clear on what they need to do. His body is tensed and ready. Only a few hours until morning, and he doesn't think he can sleep, but he must try. They're all going to need their strength.

**

Haruhi waits for Tamaki outside the bathroom. It's been four days since she barged into his office and four days since they've talked. Since then, she's learned to tune out the whispers and the stares. She thinks about her current book or she listens to Junko explain baseball to her for the fifteen time. After a while, she can't even hear it anymore. It's as if the gossip has stopped completely.

Of course, it hasn't, and she can hear the maid, Kana and her friend, who's name she still hasn't learned, putting their heads together as they make their rounds. They think Haruhi won't recognize her own name cruelly spoken. They would be in for a surprise if Haruhi cared enough to correct them. They pass her and she says not a word nor spares them a glance. It occurs to her that they might be so involved in themselves that they don't see her. She'd expected at least a glare.

With them gone, the hallway is empty. There's some noise from downstairs, people coming in for another day's work. She wonders what kind of pay they get. Money is a scarcity and doesn't have the value it used to. She's seen some of the townsfolk engage in bartering with fresh vegetables and clothing. What little paper and coins they had seemed to be reserved for meat and eggs. Things they had in far less abundance.

Haruhi stares down a balcony at the far end of the hall. From here, she sees nothing but the ceiling and a dusty, unused fan. She misses the water sloshing behind the door and is caught off guard when the handle turns. Haruhi steps forward, blocking his path. She's rehearsed what she's going to say and she isn't prepared to give him a word in edgewise until she's done. He steps out and Haruhi is treated to an up close and personal view of his chest, a towel wrapped around his waist as he uses another to dry his hair.

"Bathroom's yours if you need it," he says, walking past her.

Haruhi's brain shuts off. He's out of sight, but the image of his damp, naked upper body is burned into her skull. Her mouth hangs open and her cheeks on fire. Whatever has happened to him mentally and emotionally these last few years, it's obvious they've been _very_ good to him physically.

He opens a stubborn drawer so that it gives a piercing whine. Haruhi spins and rushes after him. He's pulling a shirt over his head, and Haruhi is so disappointed, she wants to smack her head against the wall. Here she is, trying to have an important conversation with him, and instead, she's been reduced to a ball of sexual frustration. Like she's one of the guests at the host club now.

She knocks on the door. "Can we talk?"

"You can talk," he says, buttoning his shirt. "Not sure I'll answer."

"About that thing I was asking you about." She starts to go in but stops herself. He hasn't given her permission and she doesn't know for sure that he will. "I just wanted to say I'm not hearing it as much anymore, so if you did something, thank you."

He pauses on the last button. The way they're situated, she can only see the side of his face, but his expression is unreadable. "What makes you think I have anything to do with that? Gossip is gossip. Eventually, people move on and talk about something else."

"Either way, I'm happy to be old news," _'For the most part...'_ She can still hear Kana and her friend whenever they move to the next room.

He gets his coat, and Haruhi is relieved when he leaves the machete hanging up. He ties his hair back and goes to his desk, fishing through some papers. That's another thing Haruhi is surprised to see. Official documents and legislature hadn't saved the world from collapsing. If she remembers correctly, the politicians had been the first to go, torn apart by an angry mob as anarchy reigned in the streets. Yet there was 'CIVILIAN COMPLAINT' written across the top of the page, and at least five signatures right below it.

She goes for a closer look, forgetting herself as a long dormant part of her mind resurfaced. Tamaki glances at her and rolls his eyes, but says nothing as she reads over his shoulder. The complaint is regarding a dispute between two neighbors over a garden. One man claims it's been planted on his property. The rest is obscured by Tamaki's hand, and as Haruhi gets on tiptoes to try and make it out, he moves away.

"That's confidential," he says. "Do you want to go back in the cell?"

He drops the file, and his threat is not enough to stifle her curiosity. Haruhi scans the rest of the page, pursing her lips. She reads it one more time, slower in case she missed any details. "Do they have a fence?"

"Whether they do or don't isn't your problem." He snatches the page back up. "Now if that's all, I have to be on my way."

"Is that where you're going?" she asks.

He doesn't answer and Haruhi follows him out. She rushes to her room to grab her coat, and he's already at the front door by the time she reaches the stairs. There's a pebble in her shoe digging into her foot, but she didn't slow down until she's caught up with him.

"You don't know when to quit," he says.

"If they don't have a fence or any other line to draw out whose land is whose, the person complaining doesn't really have a case."

"Thank you for the inspired commentary. You should've been a lawyer."

Haruhi's fingers flex. "Any real lawyer would say the same. All you have to do is read up on basic property laws. I'm sure the library has some books about it."

"You liked seeing me with my shirt off, didn't you?"

Haruhi nearly trips over air. Her legs shake like jelly and she's left stammering like an imbecile as Tamaki is kind enough to wait for her. His question has her flashing back to that moment, and her body reacts accordingly. She squeezes her legs together, but that doesn't help the heat traveling through her bloodstream. "Wh-why would you say that?"

He starts to leave. "I thought it might shut you up. Looks like I was right."

He keeps going at the same steady pace. His long legs carrying him farther in one step than Haruhi could go in two. As she fights to regain composure, he doesn't pause for her again. He may be hoping he can lose her in the crowd. He's not going to succeed. Haruhi runs after him and lets no obstacle stand in her way.

**

"So to put it simply, Koji-san, you didn't have any sort of marker in place to specify where your territory ended and Sugita-san's began," Tamaki say to the middle-aged men who glare and snarl at each other at regular intervals and probably aren't listening. "That being said, Sugita, you cannot intentionally damage Koji's property. There are peaceful ways to resolve these matters. Are we clear?"

The men grumble, but seem to understand their leader's judgment. Sugita nods and says something Haruhi can't hear. She's waiting by an old tree for Tamaki to finish with them. They begrudgingly shake hands, and Tamaki helps them measure out a new property line before bidding them farewell. He passes Haruhi, his eyes sliding right by her, and they head down the street side by side.

"You handled that well," Haruhi says. She kicks a pebble along the dirt road until they're back in town and she loses it in a mud puddle.

"Hm…" he says.

"I was impressed at how you kept your cool the whole time. They were both pretty unreasonable."

"Yes."

"Do you do that sort of thing a lot? Settle fights and stuff?"

"Sometimes."

He seems set on only giving one-word answers no matter what she asks. Like he's been possessed by Mori-senpai. Haruhi successfully ignores the stab of pain in her chest as their faces spring to mind. It happens all the time, and she hates that it's starting to hurt less.

A few people stop to greet them. Some of them Haruhi recognizes, such as one girl with hair even shorter than hers who will literally bowl over children just to say hello to him.

"Good afternoon, Kaito-sama," she says like the rest of them do. Haruhi's taken to biting her tongue when she hears that. She doesn't think screaming his real name in their faces is going to do her much good.

"Good afternoon, Shizuka-san," Tamaki answers her. He almost smiles. It's there in a flash and gone in an instant, but she's still a pile of goo when he's done. Haruhi looks once over her shoulder to see her leaning against a lamp post, giggling like a fool.

"Oh, Kaito-sama!" an older woman with white hair rushes up to them. She's a bit plump with skin like leather, but her smile takes decades off her face. "I'm so glad I caught you. I just finished making my famous strawberry mochi. It's the first time in ages I've had all the ingredients. Please have some!"

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Yamako, but I'm afraid I have business to attend to uptown." He takes her hand, leaning all the way over just to look in her eyes. "I'm sorry to have to miss out, though. I know if you made it, it has to be delightful."

"Such a flatterer," she sighs. She looks like she's going to keep pressing him, but Tamaki politely excuses himself and they move on.

Two women are left in states of total nirvana just because Tamaki graced them with his presence. It's strange and terribly silly of them, but Haruhi loves it. It gives her hope. Some things really don't change.

"This must be a common thing for you," she says casually.

Tamaki shrugs. "It's a small town. Everyone knows everyone."

"But everyone seems to love you." Haruhi sees another girl group cast hungry looks his way and hateful stares her's.

"Because I'm the town leader," he says. He rolls his shoulders. She notices again how broad they are. "I keep them safe and they appreciate it. That's all. I'm not some prince."

He continues on while Haruhi stops. She watches his back, a black dot on a blue horizon. The sun is at its highest point or would be if she could see it. The season is changing fast, brushes of cold against her skin reminding her that winter is upon them. She looks down at the heavy boots Tamaki wears, his purposeful strides speak of power and confidence. He'd have no trouble with the heavy snowfall. Of that she's certain.

She thinks about the time he tried to start a snowball fight in the park, only to trip on an aboveground root hidden by white. He rolled off the hill into a snowy embankment around a Sakura tree. Hikaru and Kaoru laughed hysterically as Mori pulled him out, half frozen with chattering teeth. He'd been lucky he missed hitting the tree or he might've broken something. If that happened now, she thinks, he'd probably be the one to break the tree.

Another woman accosts him, hanging off his arm as her head lolls to one side. Her friends try to pull her off, and while Haruhi can't hear what Tamaki's clearly drunk attacker is saying, the loud apologies of the other girls come through. They almost get her off, but she's a lot stronger than she looks and she fights hard to keep him.

Something odd stirs in Haruhi's stomach. Tamaki tries to free himself, but his efforts aren't effective. He's not putting any strength into it. He should be able to throw her ten feet in the air if he wants to. He must be afraid of hurting her. Haruhi finds it hard to sympathize. If it were her, she'd have knocked the stupid woman to the ground by now. In fact, maybe she should go do that. Just walk up to her, get her and her claws off Tamaki's arm, rear back a fist and…

And there must be something in the air making her sick. Haruhi can think of no other reason why such a bad idea could seem logical.

"Okay, I think we should go now," she says, grabbing Tamaki's coat not so gently pulling.

"But 'm talkin' to Kaito-sama!" says the drunk girl.

Haruhi's eye twitches. "Kaito-sama is very busy. He needs to get going."

She gives one hard tug that isn't necessary, as whatever the girl's been drinking catches up to her and her grip slackens. Her eyes roll back into her head as her friends lower her to the ground, fanning her and shouting her name.

"Take her somewhere to sober up," Tamaki tells them. "We don't need her in the street like this where the kids can see."

One girl nods her head. The other mumbles a 'yes, Kaito-sama.' They each take a shoulder and manage to get her back into the building she'd first stumbled out of. Tamaki stands by to watch their progress, waiting until they're all inside to leave.

"Thanks," he says, his eyes never straying from the path.

"For what?" Haruhi asks.

"For helping me with Kushina," he says. "It usually takes a lot longer to shake her off."

"You mean she's done that before?"

"Every few weeks, whenever our scavengers come up with more crates of sake."

They turn the corner to a familiar street. City Hall is just up ahead. There are fewer people around than this morning. Everyone must be working or at home relaxing, but the day never ends for a town leader. There's a couple waiting by the doors and they advance on Tamaki with complaints about kids stealing food from their kitchen. In a proper world, this kind of thing would never be his problem. He calms the couple down with a few soothing words and promises to have a talk with the boy's parents.

"You don't have to wait for me," he says when Haruhi doesn't move.

"Who says I am?" She ambles up the street, hands in her pockets. "It's a nice day. I'd like to spend it outside."

"Then go for a walk," he says. He starts to go inside after the couple takes their leave. "Nobody is keeping you here."

He shuts the door in her face, almost hitting her with it. She narrowly avoids a bruised nose, but that's her fault for running after him without thinking. She doesn't hear a click, so it's not locked. There are voices inside rendered unintelligible by the thickness of the wood. Haruhi pulls the door open. Tamaki is by the stairs talking to a man so decrepit and hunched over that he's more like something out of a fairytale book than a real person.

Tamaki's eyes flick to her and then right back to the man. He has his arms crossed, his face steely, though his eyes are soft. The man's words come out at such a speed that Haruhi can't tell if it's another language or if he just talks that fast. He leans on his cane for support. It's a head taller than Tamaki and more like a staff. He has no hair save the few wispy strands atop his head. His tan, leathery skin moves with his mouth and the motion of his arms like it's held together by thread and will come apart if one stitch is removed.

"You have nothing to worry about, Kumi," Tamaki says like he understood every word of that gibberish. "The next scavenging mission is in three weeks. Any herbs we find will go to you first."

"Thank you, Kaito-sama," the old man says, and now that he's enunciating, his voice is as strong as a man fifty years younger.

He glances in Haruhi's direction, his eye rolling in his head like that of a puppet. He fixes her with a hard stare accentuated by light gray irises so pale they start to blend in with the sclera if she stares back for too long. Haruhi averts her eyes as Tamaki escorts him to the exit. He isn't helping him walk, though the old man takes one step to Tamaki's three. He keeps both hands on the walking stick and bends his head low to look at his feet. He only raises it again when they're about to pass Haruhi. His eyes are even whiter up close.

"Er- hello." Haruhi bows out of respect for her elder and so she doesn't have to look at them again. "I'm Fujioka Haruhi. I'm new around here. It's nice to meet you."

His brow furrows, and his nose crinkles a bit as he studies her. He makes a sound like a grunt, turning his head to the side in a way that doesn't look natural. "This is the girl I've been hearing about."

It's not a question.

"She'll be staying with us for a while," says Tamaki. He crosses his arms and shoots her a warning glance when she opens her mouth. "Just until she figures out what to do next. She has some friends on the other side waiting for her."

The old man hums as Tamaki is momentarily distracted by one of the maids. She asks pointless questions Haruhi doesn't commit to memory, and Tamaki takes his time answering without a hint of the impatience she'd be feeling in his position. The old man's staff is just within her vision. It is made of old wood and splintered everywhere. She looks at his hands wrapped around it with a vice-like grip and suppresses a cringe. There must be so many bits of woods slicing into his palms right now.

"It was Kumi, right?" she asks. She doesn't expect an answer and he doesn't give one. He just keeps staring, and it might just be her, but the air around them is getting colder.

He turns with some difficulty, after a parting sneer and another grunt. Tamaki is busy and does little more than nod in Kumi's direction before going into another room. It would be callous of him to be so uncaring of the elderly, but Kumi is clearly the belligerent type. He gets over the threshold without trouble. He stops on the porch in front of the stairs, but he doesn't need to catch his breath, and his legs don't wobble on the first step.

He looks out at the sky. There are birds flying in a triangular formation and children playing in the streets. Haruhi listens until standing around in the middle of an empty foyer becomes too awkward. She leaves Kumi to his business and starts to go after Tamaki.

"You should leave."

Kumi isn't looking at her when she turns her head. He doesn't seem to be looking at anything, but what little she can see of his face is wrought with malice.

"What was that?" she asks.

"He doesn't need you," he says. "Kaito-sama has everything he needs right here. You will only bring trouble. You should leave now and find those friends of yours before you destroy everything he's built."

He descends the stairs, lowering first his cane and then himself. He gets to the street and shuffles down a stretch of empty road winding away from the town. At first glance, there's nothing out there but trees and patches of grass, but if she squints, Haruhi can make out the outline of a shack, dark brown and camouflaged by tree bark.

Haruhi watches him leave the main road and head down a dirt path. His speed picks up and she thinks he'll be a speck on the landscape in less time than she can process how abnormally fast he is.

His words run through her on a loop. They're rude and cryptic, and might be nothing more than the sentiments of a cranky old man with a disdain for anything new. They're going to stay with her, though. Well into the night, she'll be awake wondering what he meant. Wondering why he said it. Wondering if she should bang on his door and demand answers. Wondering if he's right.

Tamaki returns and snaps his fingers in her face to get her attention.

"Wake up," he says. "We're going out."

"You're letting me come with you?" she asks.

He holds the door open for her. He has his coat off, she notes. His shirt is tight on his body and of course she's eye level with his chest. "Well, if I tell you not to come, you'll follow me anyway. If I say nothing and leave, you'll follow me anyway. If I tie you to a tree and leave you for dead, you'll cut yourself loose and follow me anyway. I might as well skip all of that and just invite you."

"That's sweet of you," Haruhi says flatly.

"You're welcome."

They walk three blocks, each progressively sparser than the last, until they're in a space that's nothing but dilapidated, untouched structures that are more rubble than buildings. Most of them had only been single story from the look of it, so it wasn't quite the disaster Kanto was. All windows had been broken, and inside, she could see overturned shelves and empty cans littering the floor. This place had been gutted for supplies long ago, and now it was a ghost town.

"Where are we going?" she asks.

They enter an overgrown field with a massive barn next to a dying tree. Inside are countless voices shouting and cursing, along with the slap of flesh hitting flesh. A whistle is blown, and some of the voices cheer while others boo. Most of the windows are covered by curtains, but a hand sticks out of one for a second. It moves the curtain just enough that Haruhi can see the crowd huddled together, blocking from sight whatever they came here for.

"We call it the Basement," Tamaki says. He looks down at Haruhi, his mouth curving into a smile that is more genuine than any she's seen on him thus far. It would be a lovely sight if not for his bloodthirsty tone. "Do you ever wonder what we do around here for fun?"


End file.
